


Trust Is Earned

by The67ImpalaDragonChild



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Because of Reasons, Hurt Bucky Barnes, I mean I'm ignoring that it existed for story purposes, I say non AoU compliant, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Protective Steve Rogers, Swing Dancing, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The67ImpalaDragonChild/pseuds/The67ImpalaDragonChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took Steve years to track down Bucky and convince him to come back home to the tower with him. But just because he's home doesn't mean they're out of the woods. There are still rivers to cross and hurdles to jump before they're finally in the clear. Can Tony ever forgive Bucky for what he did? Can the Avengers keep Bucky out of the hands of people who want to capture the Winter Soldier? And, most importantly, will Bucky ever recover from 70 years of abuse at Hydra's hands?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loyalty Is Demonstrated

**Author's Note:**

> Loyalty is demonstrated.  
> Respect is given.  
> Trust is earned. 
> 
> To lose one, is to lose all three.

* * *

 

No one really expected Barnes to trust them.

It had taken Steve almost three years to find Bucky after the fall of Shield. Steve had never once flagged, following the weak leads and even fainter trails with a dogged determination that would’ve put a pitbull to shame. Again and again people told him it wasn’t worth it. That the Winter Soldier didn’t want to be found. Steve only shook his head and carried on. And the team had helped him whenever they could. Sam did most of the legwork, and they all kicked whatever information they had in Steve’s general direction whenever no one was looking.

But they never once presumed that Barnes would have any amount of trust in a single one of them if Steve ever found him and brought him back to the tower.

* * *

 

When the captain finally did return from a solo mission with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a dirty and unkempt sergeant, they all allowed him to introduce them, then gave the two their space.

Barnes didn’t come out of Steve’s apartment for almost a month, and no one pressed the issue. They’d all helped support Clint in his recovery after Loki rolled his mind. They couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to recoup from seven decades worth of it.

The presence of the soldier was the hardest on Tony.

He couldn’t help it. After Natasha dumped all of Shield and Hydra's secrets online, Tony had set to comb through all of them, with Jarvis' help. He hadn't liked some of what he'd found. It had hit him like a truck when he had read the Hydra file detailing the death of his parents at the hands of the Winter Soldier. The video he'd eventually unearthed had hurt even more. He had been ready then and there to tell Steve to piss off in his quest to find the icy bastard. But he couldn’t bring himself to hurt his friend like that. Besides, the Winter Soldier didn’t want to be found, so Steve wouldn’t find him.

So it didn’t matter.

He should’ve known better than to underestimate the determination and loyalty of Steve Rogers.

When Steve brought the man into the common area for the first time, the only thought in Tony’s head was: _Him_. He’s the one who murdered them.

It had taken everything he had to stand still for introductions, and he thanked every lucky star he knew of that he wasn’t required to shake the hand of the man who had remorselessly murdered his parents without a second thought. He had fled the common area immediately afterwards.

When Barnes had eventually started to leave Steve’s apartment and begin exploring the tower, Tony had avoided the man like the proverbial plague. The rest of the team did not.

Not surprisingly, Bucky still spent most of his time with Steve. However, when he wasn’t with Steve he often sat quietly with Sam, reading and just enjoying the other man’s unjudging company.

He started speaking with Natasha in russian, haltingly at first, and then with more confidence when she answered him immediately and treated him as she would any other normal person. Tony still wasn’t sure what they talked about, he didn’t speak russian, and he truly didn’t care enough to have Jarvis try and translate.

Thor seemed to fill a similar role as Sam. Bucky seemed to simply enjoy the stalwart blond’s company. The two could often be found on the roof or balcony enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces, or the onset of a storm. Thor also joined in with Bruce in encouraging the soldier to eat more. He ate less than a bird as it was.

Bruce loaned Bucky books to read. He suggested techniques to try and help him recover more of his memory, or to cope with his PTSD.

And Clint was the one to put weapons back in the soldier’s hands. He was the last person anyone would’ve expected to do that, though if they thought about it, they really shouldn’t have been surprised. Clint often said that shooting his bow was a sort of therapy in and of itself, it made sense that the same might hold true for Bucky and his sniper rifle, or his knives. No one was sure when the unlikely friendship had started, but the soldier could now often be found down in the shooting range with the marksman, each matching the others incredible shot with their own weapon of choice.

In their own unique way, the team had accepted James Buchanan Barnes into their fold.

It was a bitter pill for Tony to swallow.

It took almost another month before someone finally said something about his avoidance. Tony had always thought that it would be Steve who finally came and reamed him out for holing up in his lab or having Jarvis give him heads up so he didn’t run into his unwanted house guest. He was all set for a fight with Steve. He had an argument all prepared.

So it threw him for a loop when the one who came to call him out _wasn’t_ Steve.

* * *

 

“You want to explain why you’re avoiding the ever living _fuck_ out of Barnes?”

Tony looked up in surprise. Clint had planted himself like a tree in front of Tony’s desk, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted in a question that demanded an answer. When Tony just stared blankly back at him, Clint gave an irritated huff and made a ‘come on already’ gesture.

“If you’ve got something to say Tony, now’s the time to spit it out.”

“He murdered my parents.” The words hopped out of his mouth without his consent. And they definitely didn’t have the effect he thought they would.

Clint nodded. “And?”

Anger suffused him. The genius finally shook off the last of his paralysis and set his project aside, hand tightening to a white knuckle grip on whatever tool that was. He didn’t even care. All he knew was that he wanted to throw it at the archer’s head as hard as he could.

“ _And_? What do you mean ‘ _and_ ’? He _murdered_ my parents Clint! And you, what? Expect me to just forget that, be buddy buddy with the poor little assassin and sing kumbaya around the campfire? Screw you Clint! I let Rogers bring him into my home, I let him use whatever resources he needs to help his friend ‘cause Steve doesn’t know a damn lost cause when he sees one. But _damnit_! I will not pretend like nothing happened. Like he’s some innocent little thing that should be protected, because he’s _not_! If the rest of you want to do that you go right ahead and do it, but I’ll be _damned_ if I join you!”

He stared up at Clint defiantly, chest heaving after his outburst. It wasn’t Steve, but Clint would do. Tony still got to spew all of the venom and vitriol that had been building up in his soul since he’d found out his parents’ death was murder and not an accident. He waited, almost eagerly for Clint’s next salvo.

It didn’t come.

Clint ducked his head, turning it away from Tony. Submissive. “You’re a genius Tony.”

Tony blinked, floored by the unexpected praise where he’d expected an argument.

“How is it that you can’t see it?” Clint wouldn’t look at him, his crossed arms looking more and more like a defense instead of aggression. He took a deep breath. “Coulson’s dead. And it’s my fault. I should have been able to fight back against Loki. I should’ve been able to throw him out of my head…”

Tony’s anger was snuffed out like a match thrown into an ocean. He didn’t know how or why, but the conversation had taken a complete one-eighty and plowed headfirst into one of his friend’s biggest insecurities. He dropped the tool on the desk and reached for Clint’s arm without a second thought. “Clint, I thought we’d settled all of this. It wasn’t your fault, no one blames you for what happened, and they _definitely_ don’t blame you for Phil. I don’t know what brought this on, but you stop it right this second or I’ll call that scary Russian girlfriend of yours down here to kick your ass. And I’ll let her too, you just see if I won’t. I’ll even have Dum-E make popcorn so I can enjoy the kicking of your tail feathers in style! I…”

Sharp eyes suddenly snapped up to catch his, and Tony came to a screaming halt at the intensity of that look.

Damnit.

Sneaky ass assassin had played him like a fiddle.

“You don’t blame me.” Clint gave a low growl. “Then why the _hell_ do you blame him? Hm? Because he took someone close to you? Took someone from you personally?” Clint shook his his head and spat out the words as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. “Do you have _any_ idea what it’s like to be _controlled_?”

Tony felt his mouth move, but no sound came out.

The archer steamrolled right over his friend’s gasping fish impression. “Do you know what it’s like to have someone _pull_ you out of your own head and stuff something _else_ in? Do you?! Because I do! And the worst part isn’t that you get hurt doing things you don’t want to do. It’s not that you wake up and people have to tell you what the hell you did while you were under. The worst isn’t even the ‘ _how_ ’ of mind control happening.”

He finally came around the desk, grabbing the seated genius by the front of his shirt to make sure he had his full and undivided attention. Given how wide eyed Tony was, Clint didn’t doubt that he did.

His voice dropped down to a low growl, forcing the billionaire to pay attention to his words. “The worst part Tony, is that you’re still there in the back seat. You see it all happening, as it happens, and you try to stop it. You scream, and cry, and you _rail_ against the chains that hold you back. But they never break. And you have to sit there on your ass while your body hurts people you care about. You have to watch while your body _murders_ someone. And you can’t do a _damned_ thing but sit there and watch. And maybe, _maybe_ your mind blocks the memories to keep you from going insane, but that won’t last forever.”

Clint’s hands were shaking where they clutched at Tony’s shirt, but the billionaire was the only one to notice as Clint plowed on without pause.

“Loki had me under for a matter of days. _Days_! Of the eighty people he killed during that time, he used me in one way or another to kill the majority of them. When Tasha broke me loose, I had the blood of fifty-six people on my hands. And taking into account the deaths caused by my kills, that body count is now up to _sixty_ - _nine_. I _know_ that I didn’t do that! That I didn’t make the decision to go out and murder all those people! But you know what Tony? I can’t help but blame _myself_ for them anyway!”

Clint shoved himself away from Tony, stalking a few steps away from the bench.

Tony’s helper bot Butterfingers made a questioning little trill. It poked at the archer’s shaking hands, drawing his attention. Clint gave a pained sounding laugh and patted the robot reassuringly, some of his tension draining away.

But he didn’t look at Tony again.

“Loki had me for a few days. I killed sixty-nine people. And I can’t forget a single solitary one of those poor bastards. A few _days_ Tony. Hydra had James for _seventy_ _years_. I know it had to take time to turn him into the Winter Soldier, but there was plenty of time for the asset to murder his way through a couple hundred people. And that’s just that we _know_ of. Steve thinks that there might be more. And James, he remembers them _all_. I can’t imagine having the ghosts of seven decades worth of kills haunting me every day for the rest of my life, let alone the men he killed in the line of duty during the war. The fact that he’s functioning at all is a _miracle_.”

Clint’s shoulders drooped. “I… I know it’s hard for you to forgive. I mean, they were your _parents_. But I think you should sit down and actually think about who deserves all that anger you’re stewing. You don’t blame a weapon for a death, you blame the person who fired it. That was all James was to them. And now it’s up to us to help him become a person again… just...just think about it.”

Clint gave Butterfingers one last pat and left the lab, back straight and head held high. He didn’t see Tony’s wide eyes, or pale face. He didn’t see the beginnings of a thought furrow the man’s brow. He had said his piece, and Tony would listen, or he wouldn’t.

It was all on him now.

Clint shrugged and stepped into the elevator at the end of the hall.

If he remembered right, James would probably be waiting for him in the shooting range.


	2. Respect Is Given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edit* Now with translations at the end of the chapter!

* * *

It was hard at first.

Tony knew it would be. To face the man who had murdered his parents because he couldn’t do anything else, and not want to hurt him. To look that man in the eye, and not feel rage and hatred.

And so he started small.

The first change to his routine of avoidance was Jarvis. The AI’s parameters regarding the heads ups were changed. Now Jarvis allowed Tony to unexpectedly run into the soldier without any forewarning in the halls and common room every one in three times that their courses intersected.

A little thing, but so much more difficult than he would’ve thought.

The next thing to change was the way he thought about his parents’ murder. Whenever he caught himself thinking ‘he murdered my parents’, Tony began to silently correct himself. Instead of ‘ _he_ murdered my parents’, it became ‘ _Hydra_ murdered my parents’. That one was an even harder pill to swallow, but Tony liked nothing if not a challenge.

It didn’t take long for the other Avengers to notice the beginnings of a change in Tony.

The genius didn’t hole up in his lab as much anymore, and was joining the family style dinner with the team, even on nights when Bucky was at the table. He still didn’t interact directly with the soldier, but it was leaps and bounds beyond what had been the norm before.

Evidence of Tony’s unique brand of care began to show up in the tower.

Bucky’s favorite foods began to make an appearance in the weekly grocery delivery, just like when the various Avengers had first moved in. More forties era music began to turn up for the two super soldiers. James’s weapons down in the firing range were provided with new cases, and ammo for each one showed up in the ammo locker. Practice dummies for knife throwing showed up in the range as well. And books of similar genres and storylines to the ones Bucky seemed to like the most began to show up in the apartment the ex-assassin shared with Steve. It wasn’t Bruce leaving them, Bruce always marked the inside cover of his books before lending them. These definitely weren’t his.

It had been touch and go for a while, but at last tensions began to ease.

When Tony stopped ditching movie nights on evenings James attended with Steve, the team smiled more than they had in months. And they began to hope. Maybe Tony and Bucky would never be close friends, but _maybe_ they could at least learn to co-exist. The constant avoidance put a heavy strain on each other and the team, with Steve taking the brunt of it. It just wasn’t healthy for any of them.

Maybe things were _finally_ looking up.

* * *

 

 

Of course it couldn’t _last_.

It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone really… if anyone was the Avengers.

It was a hot night, and no one had felt up to the task of cooking dinner. Everyone was restless and needed an outlet for their energy. It hadn’t taken much cajoling to convince them to go out for dinner and dancing. And it had surprised and excited all of them when Bucky had quietly joined them, he and Steve dressed smartly in button-ups, black vests, and dark dress pants. Steve had turned his sleeves back up to his elbows,  but Bucky wore his long and had a glove on his left hand.

This would be the first time Bucky had left the tower since arriving five months ago, and they were all eager to show him a good time.

Dinner had gone beautifully.

They had made quite a sight as the lot of them had descended on an Olive Garden. And Tony had thoroughly enjoyed treating his friends to as much good food as they could put away. Given that he was hosting a massive norse god, two super soldiers, and a man who frequently transformed into a giant green rage monster and burned a _gobsmacking_ number of calories while he did it, that was an _insane_ amount of food. Pile on the appetites of of two very fit assassins, and another two grown men, the amount of food teetered on the edge of extreme and tipped over into truly ridiculous.

Tony wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He sat back and watched as this team that had become his surrogate family laughed and talked and just generally had a good time. He tossed witty rejoinders back and forth with Clint and Sam, sassed Steve mercilessly, and joined Natasha in making fun of Steve and Bucky’s senior citizen status. He talked science with Bruce and playfully ruffled his science bro’s ridiculous mop of curly hair.

He cheered Clint on when the marksman began to tear little chunks of bread off of the breadsticks and roll them into balls that he could flick with pinpoint accuracy at the two assholes three tables over; revenge for when they leered at the waitress and wouldn’t take a hint that no meant no. And the others had joined him in egging them on when Bucky had joined in on Clint’s target practice, quickly getting the hang of aiming and flicking the bread balls. Tony was beyond impressed when neither of the men caught the culprits.

He teased Clint mercilessly when they left and the waitress thanked them for making her night as they trotted out the door. And he laughed uproariously when Jarvis informed him that a video of the two men harassing the waitress, and Clint and Bucky subsequently targeting her tormentors had already hit social media, with more videos beginning to pop up. Apparently a few of the customers had cottoned on, and a member of the kitchen staff had caught the ‘battle of the bread balls’ from start to finish, capturing a solid fifteen minutes of sniper action on his phone.

Clint wasn’t the least bit abashed about it, and even Bucky had looked inordinately proud of himself.

Then they had gone dancing.

Wanting to have a good time without the paparazzi harassing them, and wanting to make sure Steve and Bucky were included as well, the team had elected to go to a lesser known club that offered swing dancing for a few hours in the evening before switching to more modern music.

Bucky smiled, honest to God _smiled_ , when the live band began to play a song he knew from back before the war.

He looked over to Natasha, and hesitantly held out his hand. “Potantsuy so mnoy?”(1) He asked, the use of the russian earning him a few odd looks from the civilians within hearing distance.

Natasha ignored them, smiling and letting him lead her out onto the edge of the dance floor. “Konechno Yasha . No vy dolzhny znat', ya nikogda ne tantsevala etot put' ran'she.”(2)

Bucky smiled and gave her a practice twirl. “YA nauchu tebya , malen'kiy pauk.”(3)

She gave him a challenging smirk and the two set off into the dance, Bucky calling instructions to his pupil over the bouncing beat of the music.

Natasha was nothing if not a quick learner. Dance had always come naturally to her, and the Red Room had used various forms of dance to train their little widows, though they had primarily used ballet. As the man she had known as Yasha in her childhood spun her around the dance floor, she put that training to good use, picking up the moves both from her friend’s instructions and from observing the other women on the floor. She had the basics by the end of the first song.

By the end of the third, she had started to nail the more difficult moves.

She was lovely. Dressed in a red blouse tucked into a knee length skirt that twirled about her as she moved, she had paired them with black boots, leggings, and a black silk scarf. Her long red hair had been left loose to frame her face.

Natasha moved with a liquid grace, matching her Yasha perfectly as he lead her through the steps. She was beautiful, and she commanded the eye of every man in the building.

The club was beginning to fill up, and the live band was taking a breather after every third song while the house played a modern song over the club speakers. They would keep going like that for the next hour, then transition to two swing songs and a modern. Another hour like that and they would move to every other song and spend one final hour before moving over entirely to the modern music for the rest of the night.

As the club started playing a pop song, Bucky led Natasha back off the dance floor and politely pulled out a chair for her at the table the Avengers had claimed for their own. She murmured her thanks and accepted. Seated across from her, Clint stretched a leg out under the table and pushed a chair out for the ex-assassin to take next to Tasha with a lazy grin.

“Some moves you’ve got there Barnes. And Nat, how come you never mentioned you could swing dance?”

Natasha passed a glass of water to her dance partner. “Because I didn’t. Yasha taught me just now.”

Tony snickered. “Yasha? What is that, russian for kitten or something? Since when did the Black Widow give out pet names?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I give out pet names to the people who don’t annoy me every _five_ _seconds_ Stark. And the russian word for kitten is ‘kotenok’. Yasha is simply a name. Hydra couldn’t remind him of who he was by calling him Barnes. They simply called him the asset. Then they loaned him to Red Room. I had showed promise,  and the asset was to become my trainer. They told me to call him Yasha. Before Clint, Yasha was the closest thing I had a to a friend. He taught me how to survive.”

Clint almost fell out of his chair. “Wait! Wait! Wait! He's _that_ Yasha?!”

The Black Widow sipped from her glass, giving him a look that clearly wondered where he had left his brain this time. “Yes Clint. James is _that_ Yasha. And if he would like to, I would like to dance again when this song ends. Now that I'm getting the hang of it I'm enjoying this new type of dancing. It’s fun. And Yasha is an excellent instructor.”

A bit of a blush stole across Bucky’s cheeks. “You could learn anything if I put it to music, Natalia. And the swing dancing, it's not all that new.” He mumbled.

“It’s new to me.” She assured him.

Out on the floor, the pop song ended. Those who could swing dance traded places with those who couldn’t, and the drummer began to ramp up for the band. Natasha finished her water and stood, shaking out her skirt.

“Dance with me?”

Bucky smiled and stood. “Of course.” A thought seemed to occur to him and he turned to look for Steve at the other end of the table. “You care for a go Steve?”

The Captain laughed and waved him off. “You know I can’t dance.”

Bucky pulled up short, affronted. “Since when? I might not remember everything, but you and I both know that’s a line Stevie, you danced just fine back in that rundown apartment in Brooklyn.”

“Oooh! Busted!” Clint and Sam chorused.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You go ahead Buck, the lady asked you after all. I wouldn’t want to cut in.”

Bucky smirked. “Who said anything about cutting in?”

Tasha cocked her head, eyeing the matching grins on the two soldiers’ faces. “Exactly what are you proposing Yasha?”

He gave her a playful little grin and caught her hand to lead her out onto the floor. “Just a dance Natalia. Just a dance.”

Somehow, she doubted that, but she let him lead her into the dance. The rest of the band had joined the drummer, and the dancers on the floor were already flying. The brunet spun her around, swinging her across the floor before gathering her back into the cradle of his arms and twirling her once again. Natasha threw her head back and laughed.

This was the most fun she’d had in ages!

He swung the pair of them around again and again, pushing her back and twirling her around. But when she finished turning it wasn’t Bucky waiting for her, but Steve. He gave her a mischievous grin and proceeded to wing her around the dance floor with just as much skill as her Yasha had done. Yasha, who was dancing alone a few steps away and watched the pair with intent eyes and a cheeky smile.

Waiting for something.

Steve swung her out, and Bucky was waiting for her, leaving her with a super soldier on each hand. The two traded her back and forth, laughing and clapping along with the beat when she wasn’t in their arms. They’d traded four or five times before the boys decided to switch it up on her again.

Natasha thought Steve was passing her off, but Steve kept hold of her hand even as Bucky took the other. She had a soldier on each hand again, the two mirroring each other's steps as they danced in tandem with her. Suddenly the pair tossed her hands up and spun past her, the assassin spinning around to face them behind her and take their hands again.

“Care for a flip doll?” Bucky called, his brooklyn accent making an appearance as he lapsed further into the Bucky Barnes headspace.

Reading her grin for agreement, he guided Natasha towards Steve. Bucky pressed up on the small of her back, flipping her over Steve’s forearm. Both gentlemen were careful to make sure she had her feet before the three went whirling across the dance floor again.

* * *

 

 

Back at the table, the rest of the Avengers watched with rapt attention, grinning from ear to ear. They were having just as much fun watching their friends as the trio out on the dance floor were. A space had cleared around the assassin and her two super soldiers, the entire club watching and cheering them on. But for once the hyper vigilance seemed to have faded away, and they seemed not to hear.

“Damn, look at ‘em go.” Sam commented.

Thor nodded sagely. “Indeed. They move most wondrously. I wonder if my Lady Jane would be averse to learning this ‘swing dancing’ with me. It looks to be quite enjoyable.”

“She’d probably insist on her intern learning as well.” Tony interjected.

Thor smiled. “You do not know them very well. The Lady Darcy would insist on learning. She would most likely have to help in convincing Jane.”

“Probably, especially if half the stories you’ve told us about her are true.” Sam agreed.

Clint leaned across the table, gesturing for the others attention. “Hey guys, you might wanna pay attention. It sounds like the song’s comin’ to an end. And it looks like the boys are gonna go for a big finish.”

* * *

 

 

Bucky pulled Natasha in close.

Hands on her waist, he hoisted her up. “Legs apart and hands on my shoulders.” He ordered. She complied and he leaned her back before thrusting her upwards by the hips and balancing her for a few seconds in a handstand on his shoulders.

“Good thing you wore leggings tonight.” Bucky teased as he set her back on her feet.

Steve twirled the redhead one last time before the two soldiers looped an arm each around the widow’s waist and lead her back to the table, Steve fending off the enthusiastic audience they'd garnered with a few well chosen words.

She smiled and wrapped an arm around each of them in turn. They looked so happy. Smiling and laughing, their faces more open and carefree than she had ever seen them. She gave their waists a squeeze. If this was what swing dancing did for them, maybe she should see about arranging a night of dancing at the tower every now and again.

“Hey Cap! You geriatric soldiers sure know how to show a girl a good time! You didn’t throw out a hip or something did you?” Tony asked, face completely deadpan.

“Ha ha Tony, it is to laugh.” Steve teased right back.

* * *

 

 

Across the room, a man smirked and pulled out a phone.

“...Yes sir, this is Dan. Listen, you need to get a crew down here. You’re not going to believe who I just spotted…”

 

* * *

 

 

They never saw it coming, when the other shoe finally dropped.

Bucky had needed a breath of fresh air, and he and Steve had stepped out of the club for a few minutes. The two put their backs to the building wall, closing their eyes and tilting their heads back to enjoy the cool breeze sweeping down the street.

“You having fun jerk?”

“More fun than I’ve had in a long, _long_ time punk.” Bucky sighed. He chuckled. “Can thank Hydra for one thing at least. Broke me of the smoking habit. Would’ve been lighting up by now otherwise.”

“Bad habit.” Steve agreed.

“ _There_! There they are!”

Their heads snapped up, bodies tensing and ready to fight.

Seemingly from nowhere, a crowd of reporters, cameramen, and photographers swarmed around the two men. Cameras flashed, disorientingly bright. Steve held up a hand to shield his eyes, instinctively moving to put himself between the paparazzi and Bucky. The sergeant was keeping his head low, they had agreed a while back that it would be best if they kept Bucky’s identity a secret as much as possible. Mainly to avoid situations like this. Steve just prayed no one had gotten a good shot of his friend’s face before he’d had a chance to step into the way.

It was probably a fool’s hope, but he’d take what he could get.

Even over the noise of the reporters Steve imagined he could hear the near silent click and whir of the Winter Soldier’s metal arm. He could feel Bucky going still behind him. Could physically _feel_ the advent of the Winter Soldier coming out to play. He reached back to grip Bucky’s right hand. His friend was shaking.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“Captain! Captain Rogers!”

“Over this way Captain!”

“Is the Winter Soldier under the supervision of the Avengers?”

“How long has the Winter Soldier been staying at the Avenger’s Tower?”

“Does the government know that the Avengers have the Winter Soldier?”

“Captain Rogers!”

“Captain!”

The reporters shouted their myriad questions over the tops of the others, pressing in closer and closer with each one left unanswered, microphones extended like cattle prods. Behind Steve, the soldier’s tremors had ceased. Not good. Definitely not good.

“Yo Cap!”

That voice, that one he knew. It wasn’t the one he expected to hear under the circumstances, though maybe he should’ve. The man was a self proclaimed glory hound after all.

Reporters parted like the red sea as Tony Stark swept through their midst, his suit coat neatly draped over his arm, and they immediately closed ranks behind him. The flashes of the cameras tripled, as did the shouting, both of which Tony blithely ignored. As stupid as it seemed, Steve was relieved. If he had to deal with the paparazzi, Tony was better equipped to handle this mob than some others would be.

“Tony.”

“Look at you, out here stirring up trouble.” The billionaire grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Is it true that you’re harboring the Winter Soldier at the Avenger’s Tower?”

The billionaire flashed the crowd a smile. They were jostling closer, as if they could sense that Tony would answer them. Their close proximity didn’t seem to faze him.

“Harboring? What am I, a cruise ship? I’d have to be a luxury one though… Cap, you’re always the honest one, does this suit make me look like a luxury cruise ship?” He didn’t give Steve a chance to answer, immediately turning back to the crowd. “Harboring might be a strong word, that makes it sound like he’s some kind of felon. I prefer live in buddy. The rest of my roommates are Avengers, so it’s pretty par for the course don’t you think?”

“Mr. Stark, are the Avengers in charge of supervising the Winter Soldier?”

Tony arched an eyebrow. “You know, last I checked we had a nanny for that… No, the Avengers aren’t chaperoning anyone. Not him, not anyone else. He’s not a toddler.”

A dark haired reporter in a slick suit elbowed his way to the front of the pack. “Mr. Stark! Are you aware of the fact that the Winter Soldier is the one responsible for the death of your parents Howard and Maria Stark? As per the new evidence released to the public at the fall of the Triskelion, the Winter Soldier is clearly to blame.”

Behind him, Steve felt Bucky sag a little under the weight of past sins. It had been a long time since Steve had felt such an active dislike for a man, but this one kindled a loathing the likes of which he hadn’t felt since the war.

Tony didn’t bat an eyelash. “As a matter of fact I am.”

The whole mob stilled.

The billionaire folded his arms, leveling the reporter with a glare. “I am aware that it wasn’t an accident. Have been since the files were dumped onto the web by a friend of mine three years ago. I’m also aware of the roll the Winter Soldier had to play in it, just like pretty much anyone else with internet access and time to kill trolling through all of those dull as a hammer mission reports. You’re not bringing anything new to the table here Mr…”

“Anderson. Clyde Anderson of Channel Nine News. Do you mean to tell me that you don’t have any enmity for the Winter Soldier after the way he murdered your parents?”

“Well, first of all Clyde, he’s a person and he has a name. You’d know that if you actually bothered to do any real research instead of poking at something you don’t understand.”

Behind Tony, no one caught the look of surprise on Bucky’s face. He slowly lifted his head a little to peek over Steve’s shoulder.

“And second, he didn’t murder my parents, Hydra did. All he ever was to them was a weapon, and as a wise friend of mine pointed out: you don’t blame the gun for a murder, you blame the guy that aimed it. I don’t blame him for decades worth of mind control. No one else should either.”

Anderson kept pressing, unsatisfied with the genius’ answer. “So you forgive him then? Just like that? You forgive him for beating your father’s face to a pulp? For breaking your mother’s neck with his bare hands?”

Tony went still.

Steve’s hands tightened into fists. It wasn’t just Bucky under attack now, it was Tony too.

Unaware of his danger, Anderson looked like the cat who’d caught the canary. He gave a pleased little smirk.

“I did do my homework Mr. Stark. Like you said, it’s all out there if you have web access and time to kill. So what if I haven’t found his name? No one particularly _cares_ about a weapon’s pet name is, just what it can do. And the government is still looking for the Winter Soldier. After the fall of the Triskelion in Washington, he’s on several most wanted lists. Everybody wants his head. What is going to happen now that everyone knows where he is? Hmm? Now that everyone knows you and the Avengers harbored a known criminal? You _might_ be too rich for the government to really punish for long, but what about the rest of your friends? The last I checked, most of the Avengers aren’t even remotely close to your paygrade.”

Steve growled. “Alright, that’s enough. I…”

“Steve!”

The captain froze at the command, fists still balled at his sides. He hadn’t even taken a step. Tony side eyed him, making certain he’d stay. “Thank you.”

Then he whirled and punched Clyde Anderson, Channel Nine News, right in the nose. The startled reporter stumbled back and landed flat on his ass, accompanied by the frenzied flash of several dozen cameras.

Tony wiped his hand on a kerchief from his pocket. “You see, here’s the thing Clyde. I’ve seen the footage. Like I said before, Hydra killed my parents. The Winter Soldier was just the man they forced to do it. What vultures like _you_ don’t seem to get is that before Hydra he was a _person_ , and he has every right to be a person again. If the government wants to try to come after him or any of the Avengers, I’ll tell them the exact same thing I’m telling you: _Don’t_ threaten my family. If the government has a bone to pick with us they can talk to my lawyers. And they can expect a fight every step of the way. No more questions...We’re done here.”

He shook his head at the shocked reporters and turned on his heel. “Cap, our chariot awaits.” He passed his suit coat into Steve’s hands. “Drape this over his head so they don’t get a good shot of him. A lot of good a picture of a man with a coat over his head will do anyone. You walk on one side, I’ll take the other, keep these vultures off of him. Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Tony snickered. “For once I’m the man with a plan.” He waited just long enough for Steve to flip the coat over Bucky’s head and shoulders, then slotted himself in on the sargeant’s left side. Together with Steve, the two bulled their way through the sea of reporters to the car waiting at the curb for them. Tony scrambled in first and guided Bucky in after him, with Steve bringing up the rear and blocking the cameras.

The two soldiers sat close together, Steve with an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. Tony seated himself across from them. Normally he’d insist on driving, but for tonight he’d make an exception. He knocked on the glass partition separating them from the driver.

“Home, Happy.”

“Sure thing Mr. Stark.”

Steve’s head snapped up. “Wait, Tony,  what about the others?”

The limo pulled away from the curb, leaving the shouting reporters and flashing lights behind. Tony waved the question away and pulled out his phone. “Jarvis, you up?”

“Of course sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Thanks for sending the limo early. Did you get the message to the rest of the Avengers?”

“Yes sir. I informed them of the flashmob out front as you requested, and that you would meet them at the tower with the popsicles. They met the second limo at the back door ten minutes ago and have already returned to the tower. Do you, Captain Rogers, or Sergeant Barnes require anything else?”

“No, thanks J, that’ll be all.”

Steve chuckled. “ _Popsicles_ Tony? Really?”

The billionaire shrugged. “He’s not a captain, and sergeant-sicle just didn’t have the same ring to it. But you’re both old enough to be grandpapas so it works. I like it.” A thought occurred to him and he knocked on the glass again. “Hey Happy, swing through a DQ on the way home, I’m thinking Dilly Bars would be the perfect way to reclaim the evening.”

“You got it sir.”

The captain shook his head. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Pepper thinks so.” Tony agreed. “Anything else you want to point out Captain Obvious?”

Steve just laughed.

The car drifted into silence. Tony fiddled with his phone while the two soldiers spent the ride staring out the window at the city.

Bucky tensed up when the limo pulled into the Dairy Queen parking lot, but he relaxed again when Happy handled the entire transaction from the driver's seat. No one spoke again until they were back in the secure parking lot under the tower.

“Did you mean it?”

Tony and Steve jumped. Barnes was quiet at the best of times, but he went almost mute when the memories of the nightmare that was his time as the Winter Soldier began to hit a little too close to home. Neither of them had expected him to speak for the rest of the night at least.

He was staring at the genius, icy blue eyes intent as he awaited an answer. “What you said to the reporters. Did you mean it?”

Steve cocked his head. “Which part Buck?”

“Yes.” The billionaire answered without hesitation, cutting right over the captain.

Bucky seemed to consider his answer carefully, then gave a sharp nod and marched away without another word or backwards glance at either of them.

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks Tony. I know how hard that had to’ve been.”

For one millisecond the genius, billionaire, philanthropist’s expression wavered. Hearing someone describe Howard and Maria’s murders the way that reporter had, intent on hurting him in the cruelest possible way with their deaths, it had hit him like a hammer blow. To be asked point blank if he could _truly_ forgive the man who had done that… It had been unexpected, and all the harder to recover for it.

But he _had_ recovered.

He had wondered countless times to himself if he could do it. If he really could absolve Barnes for a crime that he had committed under the brainwashing of Hydra. If he would ever be able to exonerate the man for the sins that never should’ve been his.

If he could really forgive him the way he’d forgiven Clint.

He’d never been able to answer that question for himself. But tonight someone had thrown that self same question in his face in front of  more cameras than he could shake a stick at. And he had answered without a second thought.

Yes. Without a question, yes.

He flashed a smirk at the captain, though he had no doubt Steve had spotted that momentary lapse. Still, he was Tony Stark, the hell he was going to get into anything overly emotional with Captain America!

“Punching Clyde Anderson, Channel Nine News? Oh yes Captain Rogers, it really was a hardship. You have no idea. What will people say? But I couldn’t exactly let the physical star spangled embodiment of truth, justice, and apple pie go ahead and knock some loud mouth’s block off! Half the country would have a coronary on the spot. And the children Steve! Think of all the impressionable little brats! No! No! I think it was better for all concerned that it was me who knocked dear old Clyde on his arrogant ass. And…”

“Language!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "Dance with me?"  
> (2) “Of course Yasha. But you should know I’ve never danced this way before.”  
> (3) “I will teach you, little spider.”


	3. Trust Is Earned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot! Three down, two to go! Just a heads up guys, there is: blood, allusions to Bucky's craptastic past with Hydra, and a boatload of swearing. Y'all been warned! Enjoy!

* * *

“Sir, I believe you need to hear this.”

Tony groaned and sat up. He must’ve fallen asleep at his workbench again. The stitches embedded deep in his lower abdomen twinged a warning and he winced. Pepper was going to have a field day. The lights were slowly being brought up to acceptable levels, he could see it through his eyelids. He blinked bleary eyes and paused. No, Pepper wouldn’t have a field day, Pepper wasn’t here. 

He was alone in the tower.

Memory began to creep back into his sleepy, caffeine deprived brain. He’d been hurt on a mission. Had almost died in fact. The call to assemble had been away from the tower, and he’d had to use the briefcase suit. His armor was good, he made nothing but the best. But apparently that design just didn’t stand up well to pieces of steel rebar traveling at speeds upwards of 100mph. 

Bruce had set a new record for how fast he could come down from the hulk and be able to hold a tool without his hands shaking.  He’d kept Tony alive until they could get him to a hospital. 

Tony had survived far too many hours on the operating table and had promptly escaped the hospital at the first opportunity. Between Jarvis constantly monitoring his vitals, and his personal physician always being more than happy to make house calls to the tower and it’s fully stocked medical ward, Pepper had decided that it wasn’t worth the effort it would take to drag him by the ankles back to the hospital. The fact that his three helper now turned hindrance bots, U, Dum-E, and Butterfingers had all ganged up to keep him from getting too active had only encouraged Pepper’s choice. 

And the team had backed it up. 

A light poke to his arm drew his attention to U. The robot held a ceramic cup of water out to the bleary genius. He grimaced. Pepper had also cut off his liquor and caffeine until further notice. Hence his fatigue induced nap on the workshop bench. So, when the call to Assemble had gone out while Pepper was out of town, Tony had jumped at the chance for relatively unsupervised lab time. 

Well, Jarvis and the helper bots were still here, so it wasn’t strictly speaking unsupervised. 

Tony shrugged and accepted the mug. He’d take what he could get. He sipped his water, trying to rub some of the sleep out of his eyes. The no caffeine thing was going to kill him faster than the rebar that had skewered him. How did he ever function before coffee? How did he ever function before alcohol? 

For that matter, how had he ever functioned, period?

“Mr. Stark, there is an issue which requires your immediate attention. I do not possess the protocols to correctly handle the situation myself.” 

Tony straightened, his weariness beginning to wash away in the face of concern. Jarvis sounded worried. Given that Jarvis was an artificial intelligence unit, he was very difficult to worry. Something that made Jarvis worry was something that made his creator sit up and take notice. Tony pushed off from the desk and sent his wheeled chair rolling backwards across the shop to another workbench. 

“Ok, J, show me what’s got your circuits in a twist.”

Blue holograms jumped up into the air above his bench. For being a hologram, it was crystal clear. It was security footage from one of the towers many corridors. Location in the lower right corner identified it as one of the personal floors. Looked like it was the captain’s floor. It was empty.

“Jarvis, what are we looking at here?”

“One moment sir.” The camera zoomed in on a large potted plant. Tony rolled his eyes, Steve had to’ve put it there, Tony wouldn’t have  _ ever _ put something like that in his building. He didn’t know what that plant was, but he knew that it was  _ hideous _ . He was  _ so _ going to give Steve hell for it later. 

“Jarvis…?” A movement on screen caught his eye and he froze. “Nevermind Jarvis… I see it…”

He wasn’t the only human in the tower. He’d almost forgotten. A figure huddled in the shadow of the large pot and the hideous as hell plant. It looked to be a man’s form, curled up in the fetal position. Shirtless. He had to be cold. He had been the source of the movement. He was perfectly still now, Tony would’ve gotten more movement from a gargoyle. 

“Barnes?” Tony asked, though he  already knew.

“Yes sir.”

“How long has he been there?”

“He has only been in the hall for approximately fifteen minutes, but my readings indicate that Sergeant Barnes is in some form of physical distress.” 

Tony stiffened. “I’m going up there. Let me know if he moves.” He shoved his chair backwards, rolling across the room to the door. Getting up out of the chair was a little longer and more painful than he would’ve liked, he was definitely overdue for a pain pill or three. Stifling a grimace, he leaned against the elevator wall and waited for Jarvis to lift him to the appropriate floor.

“J, you said physical distress. What kind of distress are we talking here? He’s hurt?” 

“Yes sir, though I am having some difficulty in ascertaining the nature of the injury. My sensors are detecting the presence of blood. His physical reactions indicate he is experiencing some form of physical trauma. Posture indicates the issue to be centered in the upper torso.”

Tony nodded along to the AI’s analysis. 

“Sir, you should be aware that he also seems unresponsive to auditory stimuli. I am endeavoring to reach the Captain, or Sergeant Barnes’ physician Dr. Banner if the Captain should prove to be unavailable.” 

“Good idea Jarvis, thanks.” 

The elevator smoothly slid to a stop. But the doors didn’t open. Tony folded his arms. There was only one reason Jarvis would hesitate to let Tony do as he pleased. 

“J, how is it I built you, but you’re still more afraid of Pepper than me?”

“Perish the thought sir. Miss Potts is merely very persuasive. This situation concerns me sir. If the sergeant is not of his right mind and chooses to hurt you there would be very little I could do to help you.” 

“Alright, if I promise to be careful will you let me out of the elevator?”

“Sir…” 

Tony held up a hand. “Trust me J.”

“...very well sir…”

The billionaire smirked. “Awesome. Now, here’s what I need you to do…”

* * *

 

 

The soldier blinked.

He knew that sound. But, that sound shouldn’t be here. But it was. Soft laughter drifted through the air, gentle and warm, a balm on the soldier’s raw nerves. The captain’s laughter. Steve… But Steve wouldn’t be back till tomorrow at the earliest. Had he really been out here that long? That couldn’t be right.

“James? James, are you alright?” 

The soldier’s head snapped up. That voice,  _ that _ one wasn’t supposed to be here either. That one had never come to this floor so far as the soldier knew. What was he doing here now? 

Tony Stark was crouching a few feet away, hands held open to show that he didn’t have a weapon. The soldier didn’t believe that for an instant. He could see the bracelets around his wrists. The man might be unarmed for the moment, but he’d seen Stark’s suits fly out to enfold him faster than the soldier could blink. 

He slowly took in his surroundings. 

Stark had left the hall lights off. That was how Stark had snuck up on him. The soldier knew he was compromised, the fact that he hadn’t heard Stark arrive proved it. But he knew a change in ambient light levels would’ve been noticed, no matter how mentally or emotionally compromised he was. And wasn’t that a contradiction in terms. An emotionally  compromised weapon.

The laughter still floated through the air soft as down. It was definitely Steve’s laugh, but he couldn't see Steve. A recording then. But why?

“James?” Tony’s voice had gone up a notch in his concern. The soldier forced himself to focus on the man’s face. Tony smiled a little. “There you are. Are you alright? Jarvis said that you were hurt. He said you were bleeding?” 

The soldier didn’t move. His left side was pressed into the little space between the pot and the wall. Not much protection, but it was better than nothing. He wasn’t about to give that up. 

_ Steve trusts him.  _

The nagging little thought wouldn’t let the soldier alone. It was certainly right, as much as Stark aggravated him Steve really did trust the man… If Steve trusted him, maybe it would be ok for the soldier to take a chance. He slowly pulled away from the pot and turned more directly into the moonlight. Pain lanced through him, and he couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped. He waited. 

It was Stark’s move now.

* * *

 

 

Tony stared. 

Jarvis had said that Barnes was hurt, but the sight of that much blood was still a shock. He was thinking minor cuts, maybe a few bruises. Bucky’s left arm was bleeding. Quite a feat considering it was made of metal. Blood seeped from under the edge where metal met flesh. His right hand was pressed into that juncture, fingers coated in scarlet. Even as he watched, a ripple of fresh blood slipped out to roll down the man’s bare shoulder, accompanied by another near soundless gasp.

That snapped Tony out of it.

“James, I need you to tell me what’s going on.” Barnes just stared at him, so Tony changed his tactic. “Did someone hurt you?” Barnes shook his head. That was progress. Tony tried again. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

A negative shake of the head.

“Ok, what else could...The arm! James, is the arm malfunctioning?”

This time the nod was a lot less certain. It was what Barnes  _ thought  _ was happening, but he wasn’t entirely sure, and he couldn’t exactly check. 

Now for the most important question. And probably the one that would get a resounding ‘no!’. 

“Will you let me help you?” 

Barnes eyed him suspiciously, then gave a very cautious nod.

Tony beamed. “Excellent! Alright, we need to get you downstairs. Assuming it’s a mechanical failure, I should have everything I need to put an industrial strength bandaid on that for you. Do you think you can stand on your own?” He lifted the hem of his shirt so Barnes could see the bandages along his abdomen. “I’ll help as much as I can, but Pepper will have my billion dollar ass if I pop any stitches.”

The bandages seemed to surprise Barnes.

He got to his feet without a problem, leaving a bloody right hand print on the carpet, and another on the wall. Tony made a mental note to have U come up and clean those before Barnes came back up to this floor. The metal arm swung limp and heavy at Barnes’s side, the movement making more blood trickle from under the prosthetic. The sergeant grimaced and hurriedly cradled the metallic limb against his chest with the flesh one to keep it from swinging. He looked to Tony expectantly. 

Tony gestured towards the elevator. “Follow me then.” 

Barnes followed obediently after him. It sort of creeped Tony out how silent the man was. Even with the metal arm, Barnes was just as quiet as Natasha or Clint when they were in super spy mode. Quieter even. 

It was by far the most unnerving elevator ride Tony had ever experienced.

Down in the workshop, Jarvis had tasked the helper bots to lay out the tools their master might need on the main workbench. He’d also brought up the lights to full brightness. Tony could finally get a good look at Barnes. 

He didn’t like what he saw.

Dark smudges under his eyes said he probably hadn't had a good night’s sleep since Steve had left on the solo mission three days ago. It had probably gotten worse after the others got the call to assemble at the captain’s location yesterday. And he was still probably skinnier than he really should’ve been after six months in the tower. He looked worn, haggard, and exhausted. He looked like hell. Hopefully the genius would be able to fix some of that. 

Tony motioned him towards the workbench. “Go ahead and grab a seat James, and we’ll see about getting you sorted out. Jarvis, any luck scanning for the problem? You have three times the sensors here over anywhere else in the building.”

“Eight times actually sir. And I am having no better luck scanning for the source of Sergeant Barnes’ discomfort. There seems to be something jamming my sensors. If I didn’t know from outside sources that his left arm is metallic in nature I would not realize that his arm was nonbiological. Only that there was something different.”

“Come on J, I made you better than that.”

“Indeed sir, but the problem still persists. It seems to affect my detection of other metallic items on his person as well. It makes remote detection of his injuries untenable in relation to his arm.” 

“Ok, looks like we’re going at this the old fashioned way then.” Tony changed the position of a couple tools on the bench, then turned to look expectantly at Barnes.

* * *

 

The soldier cradled his metallic arm closer to his chest, uncertain. 

He hadn’t let anyone near the arm since his last technical work up after Steve had damaged it in a fight. But that had been three years ago at Hydra, with specialized doctors and mechanics who understood the complex inner workings of the arm and how it connected to the sensitive nerve endings and soft tissues in the hollow of his shoulder. 

This was Tony Stark. A man who knew little to nothing of how the arm functioned or what it was capable of. Let alone how it interacted with his flesh. A man who had every reason to loathe the very ground the soldier walked on. Could he really trust this man? Would he want to strap the soldier down, to make sure he didn’t move? To make sure he didn’t hurt him? Would he want to take the arm away? Make it weaker so it wasn't a threat? Would he even be able to help?

_ Steve trusts him. _

The thought ghosted through his head again. Steve trusted this man with his life. That sort of trust wasn’t earned lightly, though Steve had always been more trusting than was good for him. And if he had to let someone dig into the inner workings of the arm, he could do worse than Tony Stark. The man was a quantifiable genius, his AI alone was a testament to that, let alone the Ironman suits. If he couldn’t understand the inner workings of the arm, who would? 

He approached the bench, and the genius pushed a rolling chair towards him. The soldier sank into it gratefully, only thinking after the fact about the blood that was now probably smeared all over the upholstery. 

Tony was already waving it off before the soldier even had time to tense. “Don’t worry about the chair. God knows I’ve dumped everything else on it.” He hooked a wheeled stool with his toe and pulled it close. “So, how do you wanna do this James? You’re the only one who’s even got a clue about how to get into the arm or how it works. That puts you in the drivers seat. Plus, you know, it’s your arm.” 

The soldier hesitated. He needed maintenance, he knew that. But…

“Uh, James?” Tony’s voice sounded a little strangled. “Not to rush you or anything, but your arm's really starting to bleed…” 

The soldier glanced down. Stark wasn’t lying. Blood was starting to seep out of the joints in between the plates. He was out of time, and he had to make a decision now. Like it or not, there just wasn’t any other choice. He lifted the metal arm up and set it on the pristine counter top. His face twisted into a grimace as he concentrated on the arm. The plates along the top of his shoulder slowly retreated, forced back by the will of the soldier. He hated doing this, it always made him feel sick to his stomach. As if he were peeling his own skin back. In a way he was. He ran his eyes over the workbench. There wasn’t anything even remotely close to the specialized clamps that the Hydra mechanics used. He grabbed a roll of duct tape off of the workbench and passed it to Tony. 

It would have to do.

* * *

 

The genius was quick to figure out what he wanted, tearing off a strip and using it to tape the metal plates in place so they wouldn’t snap back and hit him while he worked. 

“Sir, the interference to my sensors has ceased. It seems to have deactivated as soon as the arm was opened.” 

Tony nodded, sponging blood away from the internal machinery. “Great Jarvis. Scan it and throw the schematics up where we can see. We need to know what we’re dealing with here.” 

“Very good sir.” 

Within minutes glowing blue holograms appeared over the workbench, detailing the internal workings of the arm. It also showed where the new shoulder socket had been fused to his bones, and where the fine mesh that served as the translator between his nerve endings and the arms sensors lay. It even showed the tiny hair thin wires that plugged directly into his spinal cord and traced up to the base of his skull. It showed everything.

“Jesus.” Tony breathed. “They really went to town on you. I didn’t realize it was that extensive.” He shook his head and made a spreading motion over the juncture where metal met flesh, enlarging it. His face became intent, studying the problem.

The soldier had never seen the inside of the arm with his own eyes, but even he could tell that something wasn’t right. Long cables ran the length and breadth of the arm, formed up into the various muscle groups. He’d seen rough sketches of that. They were supposed to fit together smoothly, and work together as a whole, twining around the metal bones as real flesh would. Each one was semi-intelligent on it’s own accord and incredibly powerful. They mimicked the muscle fibers of a real arm, working together as a cohesive unit. 

They didn’t anymore. Pieces stuck out that probably shouldn’t have, twisted and bent. Some looked to have been cleanly sheared off, leaving the ends sharp and dangerous. No wonder he hurt.

* * *

 

“Ok, looks like you needed maintenance and it all snowballed on you.” Tony murmured, eyes focused on the schematics. “Jarvis, can you pinpoint the oldest of the troublemakers?” 

On the hologram, certain strands were highlighted.

Tony nodded. “Ok, so those are ground zero. Those snapped, and the rest tried to keep doing their thing, but time and stress and the extra workload made more break. They keep warping and twisting, putting more stress on the rest. Nasty vicious cycle. These will all break and unravel eventually… They’re all tied directly into your nervous system, how are you not in a world of hurt right now?” 

The soldier winced and looked away. 

Tony answered his own question. “You are. You’re just not showing it. Jarvis, we got any painkillers he could have?” 

“I’ll have one of the bots take the elevator to medical to retrieve some sir.” 

Tony reached for a tool a little further away and groaned as his body reminded him of his own injuries. The deep seated ache from the surgery was becoming stronger as his own pain meds continued to wear off. The genius made a snap decision. 

“James, you on any meds right now?” 

The soldier shook his head. 

Overhead, Jarvis confirmed. “There are no medications in Sergeant Barnes’ system.”

“Is your name James?” Tony sassed the AI. He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the nearest helper bot. “Hey, U, get me the pill bottle with my pain meds. Ok?” 

The little bot chirped agreeably and rolled away.

Tony shrugged at Barnes’ curious look. “No sense sending one of them all the way to medical when I have what we need right here in the shop. You’re about the same height and weight as me, give or take a few pounds. So long as you aren’t allergic to any medications we should be good to go.” 

He leaned in, sponging more of the blood away from the inner mechanisms as he tried to assess the damage and how best to repair it. Fresh blood welled up, showing where the injuries to the flesh were. Tony huffed out a breath. 

“Damn. Ok James, it looks like there are enough broken bits that they started tearing into your shoulder. That’s why you’re bleeding. But there’s just not enough room for me to get around underneath and fix it. I might have to hotwire into one of the bots and repair this remotely...Jarvis? Do you think you could…?”

* * *

 

The soldier listened to the man babble at his artificial intelligence. 

He knew how to solve the problem. There were protocols in place for when serious damage befell the arm. But it required making himself more vulnerable than he already was. As vulnerable as it was possible for the Winter Soldier to be, short of drugs. 

_ Steve trusts him.  _

The soldier took a deep breath. He tuned out the rambling scientist, the crisp dialogue of the AI, and the quiet warbles and trills of the helper bots. Tuned them out, and focused on the arm to the exclusion of all else. He only hoped the arm was working well enough to do what was needed. 

More plates rolled back, piling on top of each other with quiet clicks. He was opening it up all the way, top and bottom. The plates at the joints moved down and to the side and piled on top of the others, leaving the joints completely exposed. All the way down the arm the plates rolled back, strategically piling up in neat lines along the sides where they wouldn’t be in the way. 

Blood began to pool on the counter, dumped out now that the panels were open.

* * *

 

“And I think we could…” 

Tony trailed off mid-sentence, staring at the blood that had suddenly spilled across his work space. His eyes tracked it back to the source. Butterfingers made an anxious trill and hurried to bring one of Tony’s rags over to try and stop the spread. Tony let him. 

He was too busy taping down the plates to hold them open. Barnes never looked at him, face tightened in concentration as he held them open by sheer force of will.

* * *

 

The soldier groaned. 

Stark had finished taping the plates, now he could finish. His stomach rolled, and he felt bile rise in his throat, but he didn’t let it distract him. Deep in the shoulder, he heard a soft hiss. The mechanisms ground against each other, setting his teeth on edge. The damage must have been even worse than he realized. It felt as if sand had gotten in, and the mechanisms were grinding against it. Another soft hiss whispered from within his shoulder. 

With a loud click, the arm suddenly detached! 

The soldier never registered the heavy clunk as it hit the workbench. His stomach rolled again and he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He made a dive for the nearest garbage can and threw up what little he’d had. His stomach felt as though it was trying to turn itself inside out. He trembled, trying to convince his body to settle. It wouldn’t. His mind was slipping, backsliding, back to the last time he’d had to do this. 

He’d been sick then too. But he’d been strapped down, and there hadn’t been anything for him to throw up into. He’d had no choice but to lose it all over the concrete floor… and his handler’s expensive patent leather shoes. He’d still felt the sting of that beating when he’d been thawed for the next mission. He was sure the bastard had had him frozen so quickly afterwards for just that purpose.

Strong hands pulled his hair back.

The soldier shuddered. He’d made it to the bucket, but he was still bleeding all over the billionaire’s pristine floor. He was making a mess. Messes were punished. If he was lucky, all they would want him to do was clean it up. Some of his handlers had been far more creative than that. 

But there were no harsh words. 

Those strong hands just pulled his hair back into a ponytail and tied it there with something. One disappeared after that, the other rubbing his back soothingly. Like Steve would’ve done if he’d been there. Some of his muscles began to relax by degrees. When his stomach finally settled the billionaire helped him back up into the chair, ordering one of his bots to take the can away and clean it. Never once did he offer a harsh word, or make an attempt to punish the soldier.

Maybe Steve’s trust was more well placed than the soldier had thought.

* * *

 

“You ok?” Tony asked. Barnes gave a small nod. He looked absolutely miserable. And the way he tucked his head, as if he expected to be hit… that didn’t sit right with Tony. He was beginning to understand Steve’s stance a little bit better. 

“Was it detaching the arm that did it?”

Another small nod. 

Tony completely ignored the arm, focusing his attention on the bleeding socket. Using a magnifying glass, he checked the torn mesh and the flesh underneath for any pieces that might have completely broken off. He didn’t see any, and a quick glance up at the holograms showed that Jarvis wasn’t seeing anything either. 

“That can’t have felt good, popping that off. I’d probably throw up too… hmm. I wish Bruce were here. For all that he insists that he’s not a people doctor, he sure could’ve fooled me. He definitely knows his stuff. I’m a glorified mechanic, I don’t really know enough to patch up your shoulder. None of these look really deep, so I’m going to pack this off with gauze from the first aid kit and let Bruce fix that, ok? I don’t want to try and fix it and give you permanent nerve damage or something. Is that alright?” 

Another little nod.

Tony sighed and grabbed the first aid kit from Dum-E. Barnes hadn’t said a word the entire time. Tony hoped it was just the shock of having the arm malfunction and that he wasn’t backsliding. It had taken months to get Barnes to really start talking, full sentences mind you, not the monosyllabic answers that Hydra had drilled into him. 

It would half kill Steve to see all their hard work regress like that.

He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present. Steve had trusted him to look after Bucky while he was gone. Well, not in so many words, but he’d trusted that Bucky would be ok and well looked after, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone off on that stupid mission. But it was essentially the same thing. Right now, Barnes was definitely not ok. And it was his job to fix that. 

He set to work packing the hollow of Barnes’ shoulder with gauze and cotton. Trying to wrap his shoulder without an arm to anchor it proved to be more of a challenge, but he didn’t let that stop him. Five minutes later, he sat back and eyed his handiwork. Barnes’ shoulder looked like it belonged on a mummy. Hopefully that would be enough until Bruce returned with the rest of the Avengers. 

U warbled at his elbow and lightly shook the pill bottle Tony had sent him to get. The billionaire chuckled and popped one of the pills, passing another one to Barnes. “Take that. It should definitely take some of the edge off.” 

The soldier eyed the pill doubtfully, but obediently tossed it back anyway. He’d already seen Stark take one, surely Stark wouldn’t dose himself with anything harmful. 

Tony smiled. “You go ahead and make yourself comfortable. It's gonna take a while to get this arm cleaned and sorted out. You can watch if you like. That or there's a couch over there that you can crash on. There should be blankets and a pillow too. I don't mind. Now that I'm awake I'll probably be up till noon tomorrow.” 

One of the bots made a warning trill and Tony winced.

“Ok, maybe just till ten. Pepper cut off my caffeine supply until my doctor says it's cool.” He grumbled about kickass women in killer high heels and turned his attention to the arm. “Let any of us know if you need something James. The bots will be happy to run for anything you need.”

* * *

 

A calm settled slowly over the workshop, enveloping the billionaire and the soldier. The soft hum of machinery formed a soothing backdrop to Stark’s mumbling and the quiet click of his tools on the metal arm. 

If he could feel the soldier's eyes on him, he hid it well. 

Somehow, the soldier doubted that. Stark’s face couldn't seem to hide anything when he was bothered or upset. At least not to the soldier’s trained eyes.

The medication Stark had given him was beginning to take effect. As his pain slowly began to recede, so did some of the soldier.

* * *

 

Bucky blinked, staring at the one hand he still had. It wasn't like when he was back at Hydra, he could remember everything the soldier did with perfect clarity. Sometimes he could even do something about it. 

It was rare that the Winter Soldier took over so completely now. Usually it was a fine blend of the Winter Soldier and James Barnes, creating a being that was neither one nor the other. To have the Winter Soldier take over so completely like this when he panicked was...disturbing. 

A mumbled swear word drew Bucky’s attention to the tower's resident genius.

He'd forgotten that Tony was even in the tower until the man had shown up in the hall asking if he needed help. He never would've expected that of anyone but Steve. Tony was the last one he would've expected to offer this kind of help. He glanced over at the genius. Tony certainly didn't look as if anyone was twisting his arm.

“Why are you doing this Mr. Stark?”

Tony jumped, nearly dropping the little screw driver he’d buried handle deep in the arm. After almost two hours of silence Tony really hadn't expected Barnes to speak until Steve got back.

“Doing what?”

Bucky made a helpless gesture. “All of  _ this _ . Helping me. I'm not…” He trailed off. Shoulders slumping, he whispered, “I’m not worth all this trouble.”

Tony snorted and spun around on his stool to face James. “Several reasons actually.” He counted them off on his fingers. “First off, you are a person. I wouldn't let a dog run around injured like that, much less a thinking, feeling human being.” 

Bucky curled in on himself, drawing a knee up to hug it close to his chest. “But why me? You have every reason in the world to hate me. Why help me? Why let me stay here in your home?”

Tony heaved a sigh. “Look James. I'm not gonna lie to you. When Steve brought you back here, I wasn't exactly the happiest man alive. And I definitely didn’t make a secret of it. But I let Steve do it anyway. I may own the tower, but it's just as much his home as it is mine. Same with all the rest of the Avengers. Plus, ya know, he asked politely. How the hell do you tell a 98 year old golden retriever no?”

Bucky snorted. He couldn't help but grin, he'd often thought Steve was more the human embodiment of a golden retriever than he was America. And Steve’s puppy dog eyes were deadly as ever, even after seventy years in the ice. 

Tony grinned right back. “So I let him. And, as Clint was nice enough to phrase it, I ‘avoided the ever-living _fuck_ ’ out of you. I figured Steve would come fuss at me eventually. I even had a whole argument all prepared! ...And then Barton had to go and show up instead of Steve and hand me my proverbial ass on a silver platter. He was mind controlled several years back, so he had an inkling of what you’re going through, and he was fed up with the way I was treating you.”

Tony shrugged. “He definitely wasn't wrong. I had to do a lot of hard thinking. And I had to adjust the way I saw you.”

“So, you don't...hate me?”

* * *

 

The genius thought about that. Once upon a time it would've been true, but a lot of things had changed. Jarvis had given up warning him about Bucky in the halls, and Tony rarely if ever actively paid attention to the sergeant’s whereabouts anymore. In a turn of events the genius could never have predicted, Bucky had assumed the friend of a friend position in Tony’s life. And Tony had found that he hadn’t minded nearly as much as he had thought he would. 

“No. Not really. I might grumble now and again, but I grumble about everybody, including my best friend and the woman I love. So don't take it to heart, just understand that sometimes I just haven't had my coffee yet.”

The faintest hints of a smile touched Bucky’s lips. “I'll try to keep that in mind….thank you. For helping me.”

“You're welcome James.” He smirked, deciding to lighten the mood. “Besides, if I'd stayed down here I would've had to endure Captain America’s ‘I am disappointed in you’ face. Have you ever seen him use that on someone? He could turn that thing on Mother Teresa and melt her into a puddle of shame! I mean, has he always had that, or did he spontaneously cultivate that talent when he became Captain America?”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile again. It was the tiniest one Tony had ever seen, but he’d take what he could get. 

Barnes shook his head. “Always. I… One of my memories… We were in a farmers market somewhere. Sometimes groceries were cheaper there. Especially near the end of the day. Folks wanna go home, and they’re more willin’ to haggle. One of the farmers was a friend. I wanted to catch up with him… Can’t remember his name, or anything else about him. But his face sticks out plain as day, and I know that I liked him. He was important…”

Bucky trailed off for a second, before regathering himself and pushing on. “I remember turning to say something to Steve, and he was just gone. Scared me a little. Steve was a little guy, might’ve weighed a buck even if you soaked him. But with all of those medical problems he had, it was just never a good idea to let him out of your sight.”

He smiled. “And then I hear him. He was usually quiet as a mouse, but he could make himself heard if he had a mind to. I spot him a couple stalls over. He’s helping this woman with a split lip up off the dirt. She looks scared to death, and she’s leaning on Steve rather than put any weight on her right ankle, but Steve... he just has this look on his face. This righteous fury. And he’s lecturing this guy. I guess he hit her.” Bucky started gesturing, trying to convey the size of the man to the billionaire. “The guy is  _ twice _ as tall as Steve is, and four times  _ heavier _ . He makes Steve look like an insect. And Steve is just laying into the man as if  _ he _ were the insect! And the man just, he just  _ wilts _ . And when he’s done with the big guy, he turns on the men standing around and lays in on them as well! They just stood there and watched while that woman was hurt, and Steve wasn’t about to let that stand. By the time he’s done, not a one of them will meet his eye. And he just helps this woman hobble over to me, and tells me we’re taking her home. He left that market with his head held high and without a backwards glance… We’d been carrying everything in our arms, I remember my friend gave us a bag. Steve carried that and the woman’s basket too, and I helped her limp home.”

The sergeant rubbed his eyes. “My memory isn’t all that great. But that one moment… that one memory sticks to me. What it felt like to walk beside that skinny little blonde huffing and puffing and almost on the verge of an asthma attack just from carrying the groceries, and being so damn proud to be his friend… being so damn proud of  _ him _ . Because no matter what life threw his way, he never quit…” He gave a self deprecating laugh. “Even before he was Captain America, Stevie was my hero…”

Tony grinned. He could totally see it. The tiny little Rogers going up against the goliath and shaming him into backing down. And then taking on the crowd too for good measure. He’d always wondered whether Steve had always been a ballsy little shit or if that had been a bi-product of the serum. Now that he knew, he couldn’t say that he was surprised. 

“So were you.”

Barnes cocked his head. “My own hero?” 

“No. You’re  _ his _ hero.” Tony grinned at the man’s nonplussed look. “James, Captain America was everyone’s childhood hero. Even mine. You remember I said I wasn’t happy when Steve asked to bring you here? And I said yes anyway? Part of it was because Steve is Steve. Like I said. But another part of it was because of who  _ you _ were. Captain America was  _ everyone’s _ childhood hero...I don’t think you ever realized but... you were  _ his _ hero! He thought the world of you, and that definitely hasn’t changed. I really don’t think there will  _ ever _ be any changing that.” 

Tony quietly went back to tinkering with the arm, giving James a chance to absorb the information he’d just dropped on him. He could see the man out of the corner of his eye, but he let him have the illusion of privacy. The sergeant still had his knee drawn up to his chest, and his remaining arm hugged it close. A flood of complex emotions washed over features that hadn’t been allowed to express anything for decades, a crack in glacial ice that had stood for far too long. 

At last he straightened and rolled his chair closer to the workbench. If his voice were a little rougher with emotion, well, no one would ever know but them. And they certainly would never tell. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Tony shrugged. “If it doesn’t bother you to work on your own arm? Sure.” He shooed away the bot that had been helping him. “Hey, Butterfingers, let someone who actually has fingers take a crack at this. Ok? James, put your finger here. I need you to hold this in place, but try to keep out of my line of sight so I can see what I’m doing.” 

Bucky scooted into the spot Butterfingers had vacated and placed his fingers in the arm as instructed. Tony had taken the time to flush the arm out, almost completely eradicating the smell of blood. Now this place smelled like nothing more than a mechanics workshop, the smell of oil and grease strong in his nose. It held no fear for him now. 

As they worked, they drifted into quiet conversation. Easy topics. 

Thor’s love of Poptarts, Tony assured Bucky it was inspired by someone named Darcy Lewis. Clint’s habit of using the ventilation system as his own personal highways. The open secret that was Bruce’s love of poetry. The way Steve had with children, the small ones in particular. Or Natasha’s habit of stashing small bits of weaponry around any given room that she used frequently. 

“I actually found a throwing knife in my book once!” Tony told the sergeant. “I’d forgotten it on the coffee table for several weeks, and she’d been under the impression it was a new coffee table book! I swear, she hides knives like some people hide easter eggs!” He shook his head at the redhead’s habits. A memory struck him, and he glanced up at Barnes. 

“Speaking of Natasha, I’ve got a question. And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Why Yasha? I mean, I know that she said they couldn’t use your real name, but why Yasha? Was there some sort of meaning behind it? Or is it just the Russian equivalent of John or Bob?”

Barnes seemed to ruminate on the question. Tony let him. He was beginning to learn that silence wasn’t a ‘no’, it was often a ‘give me a minute’. When the sergeant finally spoke, it was slowly and deliberately. 

“They chose Yasha, because it is neither exceptionally common, nor exceedingly rare. It is a name that can pass unnoticed through most classes and walks of life. There are similar names in several different cultures as well, making it harder for someone to track the asset back to any one country. And as for meaning...Well, the russians weren’t without humor. In Russia, Yasha means ‘defender of man’. Whether they chose it for the irony, or because they knew my history…” He shrugged. “In Japanese, Yasha means ‘demon’. Appropriate, given the things I did to my targets… The turks have a slightly different version, Yashar. In their languages, the word Yasha means ‘to live’, and the name Yashar means ‘to live forever’. I’ve barely aged a handful of days in the past seventy years. Like I said, the russians had quite the sense of humor.” 

He toyed with one of Tony’s screwdrivers, spinning it across the workbench. “But the name doesn’t have as many bad memories attached to it as you would think. The best of my time with Hydra, was when a little girl with red hair and bright eyes called me Yasha, and asked me to show her again.” 

Tony was already shaking his head. “Nope. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t picture a tiny Black Widow.” 

“Hm… Maybe I’ll describe her to Steve. I know Natalia doesn’t have any photos, and Steve could probably make a fair likeness.” 

“Ha! Now  _ that _ I’d be interested in seeing!” He dug back into the arm, carefully fanning out some of the cables to get at the broken ones inside. “That guy you mentioned earlier. You said you could remember his face, but nothing else? Why don’t you just have Steve draw him? I mean, Steve was right there, maybe he’d remember who your friend was. Why he was so important.” 

Bucky blinked. He looked stunned. “I...I never thought of that.”

Tony gestured with his tool. “Well? It makes sense doesn’t it? If Steve can draw from your descriptions, you should just have him draw the things you’re worried about forgetting. Visual memory is stronger anyway, and we never actually remember the event itself, we just remember the last time we remembered it. Having drawings you could look at would help keep it clear for you.”

“Do you think he would do it?”

“Put your finger here… Thanks. And what do you mean ‘would he do it’? Of course he’d do it! The man thrives on helping people! I think he lives off of it like a vampire lives off blood. You just watch, you ask him to help you by drawing and he will light up like a fucking christmas tree.” 

“...A christmas tree huh? Should I put a star on his head and wrap him in tinsel and garland?”

“Ha! You know James, I think we’re going to get along just fine! Move your fingers over here please. Dum-E, can you shine a light in here for me? No! Not in my eyes! I swear, I will donate you…”

* * *

 

 

“Sir, there is an Agent Jones in the lobby.”

Tony sat up, groaning as his spine popped. He and Barnes had been at it for hours, and it had to be getting close to dawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Barnes sit up and go tense as a piano wire. 

“Jarvis, what time is it?”

“It is approximately seven o'clock in the morning sir. Also, Agent Jones is becoming most insistent.”

The billionaire frowned, trying rub the sleep out of his eyes. “Last I heard Sheild was still in the rebuilding phase, so who’s sending secret agent snoops to my door at ass o’clock in the morning?” 

“My records indicate that Agent Jones is employed by the CIA. Sir, it seems that he has a rather large task force with him. He is demanding that the ‘Winter Soldier’ be turned over into his custody immediately. I have yet to answer, shall I maintain that Sergeant Barnes is not here?”

“ ‘course Jarvis. You maintain that to your dying  day. Get all machs up and moving, particularly the early models. I want them particularly visible. Activate the beagle protocols. Anything too big I want disassembled until it fits. And send mach 46, 42, and 28 up here.” He glanced down at the blood stained clothes he and Bucky were wearing and grimaced. “J, I'm gonna need clean clothes and some handy wipes or something.”

“Beagle protocols now in effect Sir, and the Iron Men are awake. The three you specified are already in the elevator. Agent Jones is still demanding access. He also has some very colorful descriptors in regards to myself and you. He appears to be of the opinion that I am lying about Sergeant Barnes’ whereabouts.”

“Well, we are, but there’s no need to be rude about it.” Tony groaned and popped another pain pill, sharing one out to Barnes as well. If his were wearing off, Barnes probably were too, especially with that serum enhanced metabolism. “He’s probably got the whole place under surveillance, no way to sneak you out till this blows over.”

Bucky swallowed, watching the bots scurry around the room gathering up various bits and pieces and hiding them away in hidden compartments in the floor along the wall. 

“Stark…”

Tony picked up Barnes’ arm and pointed at him with it. “No, you listen James. First of all, friends call me Tony. Actually, pretty much _everyone_ calls me Tony. Stark is what people use when they're angry. So call me Tony. Second, don't you _dare_ finish that sentence. I used to mass manufacture weapons that killed thousands at a go. And I wasn't even a nice guy to begin with. Believe me, I _know_ what it's like to look in the mirror and not like what you see. If an asshole like me can get a second chance, then a nice guy like you definitely should. You ARE worth the trouble, and don't you let anyone tell you different. Especially assholes like me who didn't know what they were talking about.”

* * *

 

Bucky shifted on the balls of his feet. The Winter Soldier was edgy, wanting to engage the threat. Wanting to lay them all to waste. Bucky held it back. He wouldn't fall back on old habits if he could help it. He cracked a weak smile.

“And third?”

Tony’s face lit up. “There is always a third isn't there? Ok, third: Steve would tar and feather me if I let anything happen to his best friend. I mean seriously, if I left Rhodey with him and a bunch of alphabet agency morons showed up looking for him, I'd expect Steve to hide him! Not go belly up and hand him over! So, I'm currently operating under the ‘what would Steve do?’ motto.”

“Sir, Agent Jones is becoming increasingly agitated. He is threatening to storm the tower by force.” The AI didn't sound very impressed by the threat. 

Neither did Tony. “You know, I am half tempted to let the idiot try, but I feel like Pepper would frown on that.” He grinned at Bucky. “She thinks I'm a PR disaster as it is. J, tell agent what's his face that he can search this place from top to bottom, he's not going to find anything. I’ll meet him and his little stormtroopers on the communal floor. And he can explain to me exactly what it is he thinks he's doing.”

“Very well sir.”

Bucky grabbed one of the fingers on the metal arm Tony was still holding and gave it a small shake. “Wish I could help more...where do you want me to hide?”

Tony smirked. “How good are you with small enclosed spaces?”

* * *

 

 

The elevators made a soft ding, and Tony Stark stepped out with three Iron Man suits on his heels.

A rude faced man with a military buzz waited for him in the common area, a large group of men and women in black tactical gear ranged throughout the room behind him. One the men had been standing closer to the elevator as Tony exited with his entourage. The man scrambled back with a start. 

“Holy crow, there’s more than one of them!”

Tony grinned. “Of course! You don't wear the exact same clothes every single day. Besides, do you know how much of a beating these can take in a fight? One tousle with a heavy hitter and I'm stuck in my workshop for weeks.” He made an expansive gesture to the suits. “thus, understudies. Say hello to machs 46, 42, and 28 boys.”

He pointed to each one in turn. 46 and 28 were both the stereo typical Iron Man red and gold, though 28 was a good deal bulkier. Either it was geared towards stronger opponents, or it was just an earlier model, and Stark hadn't been as good at streamlining his design then. Mach 42 had been painted a deep midnight blue with silver trim. 

One of the swat team made a derogatory noise. “You expecting us to wave, or something?”

Tony shrugged. “Not really, there's no one actually in them. My computer is the one driving. These beauties are just on guard duty. Too many people have it out for me, and as I'm sure you know, I'm a little under the weather.” He turned his attention to the man who was obviously in charge. “The only reason I let you up at all is because Jarvis was able to verify your identities. So Agent...whatever your name is, care to explain why you're storming my tower at this ungodly hour?”

The agent was bristling. “I'm here Mr. Stark, to apprehend a terrorist. And unless you want to be arrested as a terrorist as well, I suggest you stay out of my way. If you cooperate, you'll only be charged with obstruction of justice.”

Tony put on a faux shocked look. “What? A terrorist? In my tower? Jarvis! Why didn't you tell me we had Bin Laden in the house! No wonder they couldn't find him!”

“I'm afraid not sir, Bin Laden has been dead for several years. There are no terrorists in your tower sir.”

“Then what the hell is he talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the Winter Soldier you arrogant bastard!” Agent Jones snarled. “It’s no secret that he’s staying here. You pretty much admitted it on the news, and my sources say he hasn’t left the tower. Now, you will bring your butler out where I can see him, and you will turn over the Winter Soldier to our custody. Do I make myself clear?”

Tony arched an eyebrow. “Crystal. Now let me make  _ myself _ perfectly clear. I highly doubt you have a warrant. _ However _ . Because I’m a nice guy, I’ll let you search without one. And my one stipulation is that my Iron Men accompany you while you’re in my tower. They’ll make sure you don’t trip any alarms or get yourselves killed playing with chemicals in the labs. And as for my butler…” He tossed a grin at the ceiling. “Jarvis?”

“Of course sir. Agent Jones, if you would please direct your attention to your phone?” He waited until the man had, then continued. “You will find that news articles from multiple magazines and scientific journals have been sent to your inbox. Each one is a recounting of my birth. Mr. Stark created me years ago, though I am leaps beyond what I was when first unveiled. He often takes it into his head to improve me. To my knowledge, I am the only fully functioning artificial intelligence in the entire world. Mr. Stark was kind enough to name me Jarvis. An acronym that stands for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System.”

“He’s a computer?” One of the swat team breathed.

Another shook his head. “I thought he was just some sassy british dude on the P.A.”

“Indeed I am.” Jarvis answered them, though he didn’t specify which man he was actually answering. “My current duties are to run and maintain Mr. Stark’s household, and to see to it that Mr. Stark and a select list of people are provided with whatever good or service they require. I am also currently operating Mr. Stark’s suits until his doctor clears him to fly again. Are there any other questions I might answer for you Agent Jones?”

“Not right now.” The agent growled. “I will want to look inside each suit to make sure you’re not hiding someone in them Mr. Stark.”

Tony shrugged. “Wow, someone’s a suspicious little snoop. Jarvis?” He waved a hand at the suits behind him, and all three unfolded themselves. All three were completely empty. They closed again a moment later, and Tony folded his arms. “Satisfied?”

“For the moment.” The agent turned his back on the billionaire, ignoring him now that the man had given him what he wanted. “Work your way through the floors, more teams will be making their way up from below. And break out the thermal imaging. The man you’re after was trained as a sniper, he knows how to hide and remain immobile for long periods of time. Anything looks suspicious, you alert me  _ before _ you investigate. I want this man taken alive if at all possible. Lethal action is  _ only _ authorized as a last resort. Am I understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir!”

“Oh, Agent...whatever, there’s something you should probably know.” 

Jones rolled his eyes, not even  _ trying _ to hide the disdain he felt for the man. “What?” 

Tony pointed to the blue and silver Mach 42. “Some of my models put out excess heat. Thermals would show up as a person being in them. Especially the older models. Not Mach 42, I specifically designed him for extra heat, he’s for the cold weather missions. Kinda like a high tech parka, but…” 

“Stark! Shut your damn mouth!” Jones gestured for one of his agents to turn the thermal imaging on the suit. It definitely looked like someone was inside. But the chest plates had obligingly rolled back to prove once again that the suit was empty. 

Tony shrugged. “Thought you might like to know that. I mean, unless you get off a  _ really _ lucky shot, bullets won’t hurt my armor. But still, bullets  _ bounce _ , and I’d like to keep my home and employees as bullet free as possible. Anything else Agent Jones?”

“No.”

“Good! Jarvis, could you trot Mach 42 over to the kitchen? I haven’t had breakfast yet, and somehow I don’t think Pepper would take it kindly if I disobeyed doctors orders and started drinking this early in the day.” 

“Of course sir.”

“Excellent! I’ll be in the dining room!”

“No Stark, you’ll be right here.” Jones smirked at the startled philanthropist. “I’m not stupid. I know better than to trust anyone with the last name Stark. I’m not letting you out of my sight until this building has been searched from top to bottom, and every face verified against our records.”

“Sounds exhausting.” Tony grumbled. He shrugged and changed direction to flop down on the sofa. “I still want breakfast J.”

“I expected nothing less Sir. Also, you’ll be pleased to know that the Iron Men are stationed on each floor awaiting the arrival of Agent Jones’ men. The staff have already been informed of what is going on and have gathered in central locations on each floor to be verified. Also, my Beagle protocols are fully in place.”

“Beagle protocols?” Agent Jones eyed Tony suspiciously. “Explain that.”

“As you know Agent Jones, the Avengers are currently on a classified mission. As is often the case casualties and property damage have occurred. Beagle protocols are in place to retrieve emergency personnel,  alert them of possible hazards, and ensure that they are aware of when and where it is safe to enter the scene. It wouldn’t due to have first responders run directly into the center of a battle and become victims themselves. My protocols interact with the various municipalities and dispatches to ensure that everyone is as safe as they can be.” 

“Wow.” A younger agent had remained close to Jones’ side when the others had spread out to begin searching the premises. He looked semi-awestruck as he asked. “Is there anything Jarvis can’t do?” 

“Ride a unicycle, beat Hawkeye at archery, or make a better apple pie than Captain America.” 

“Captain America bakes?” 

Tony threw his hand up into the air. “You better believe he does! If he were ever to retire and give up the stars and bars outfit, he could totally clean up selling those pies of his out of some little hole in the wall bakery! I keep trying to convince him to cater one of my events, but he insists even he’s not up to that sort of challenge. I don’t see why, I mean, he’s Captain freaking America! Challenge is kind of what he does! But…” 

“Shut it Stark. No one’s particularly interested in anything you have to say.”

Tony pouted at the senior agent, but he perked up a few minutes later when Mach 42 returned with a breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs a few minutes later. The next five hours would be equal parts boring and frustrating as Agent Jones’ men tore the tower apart looking for the Winter Soldier. And the longer they went with no sign of him, the more agitated and irritable Agent Jones became. 

Then they reached the personal floors.

* * *

 

Jones rounded on Tony. “Why are my men being denied access to certain floors?”

Tony stood, going up on his toes as he tried to stretch some of the kinks out of his muscles. “Because those floors are the Avenger’s’ personal quarters. If you’re going to insist on searching those, then I’m going to insist on being present to ensure that you don’t violate their privacy any more than necessary.” He purposefully marched toward the elevators, the three Iron Men following after him. 

“And what makes you think I have to accommodate anything you want?” Jones snapped.

Tony smirked. “Because I’m letting you search my home without a warrant. And because  _ those _ floors belong to friends of mine who  _ haven’t _ given you permission to enter their homes. So if you want your little seek and destroy to be legal, I suggest you stop futzing around and get with the program. It’s almost noon, and sooner or later the Avengers are going to come back from their mission. They’re going to be exhausted, and more than likely a little crabby, and I’d just as soon have you be out of their apartments before they come back.” 

Jones ground his teeth. “Fine. Zebrowski, you stay here. I don’t know what Stark’s trying to pull, but I’m not letting him get away with it.” 

The younger agent nodded. 

Tony shrugged. “Whatever you like G.I. Jones. J, 28 stays here to watch Radar O’Reilly. 42 and 46 are with me and chuckles. Hey, Zebrowski, there’s a checker board under the couch. J would be happy to play. Just don’t challenge him to Chess, we still haven’t managed to beat him at that.”

* * *

 

The first personal floor to be hit was the one belonging to Bruce.

And suddenly Tony was all business. He watched the agents so closely that Hawkeye would’ve been proud. And he wasn’t afraid to make himself heard on any given subject. Especially if it involved his friends’ privacy. 

“I’m only going to say this once Agent. Tell your men to stay out of my friend’s things, or there  _ will _ be hell to pay. Somehow I  _ doubt _ the Winter Soldier is hiding in his scientific notebooks.” He leveled a glare at the culprit, and the man shamefacedly put the notebook back on top of the dresser. Tony nodded and spun around to point a finger at another man in tactical gear. “That goes for you too Agent Stickyfingers! Put that back where you found it, or I will let the Hulk deal with the theft of his property  _ personally _ .” 

The man paled and hurriedly put the item back into the box he’d been snooping through.

Tony snorted. “Why the hell are you even looking in a box the size of a  _ microwave _ ? The last I checked, the Winter Soldier wasn’t a contortionist… I really don’t know about these agents of yours Jones, I mean, I just  _ really _ don’t know…”

Jones just glowered. “...move to the next floor…”

The following floors featured their own difficulties. And each time Tony was ready and willing to fuss and shame and threaten the agents into keeping their noses out of unnecessary nooks and crannies. For some things though, there was simply no hiding their eccentricities. 

He could only grin and shrug when agents found no fewer than ten small firearms and a tripwire in Natasha’s quarters, and then grin wider still when he realized that was probably a fraction of what she had tucked away. 

He snickered at their reactions to the norse art (and the excessive number of Poptarts boxes) in Thor’s living room. 

And he laughed outright when they tripped booby traps in Clint’s apartment and were doused in a watered down paste and then coated in either confetti or feathers. Others fell prey to the old cling wrap and corn syrup trick. His laughing only seemed to piss Jones off more.

It was almost a let down to reach Steve and Bucky’s nice normal, if somewhat vintage styled floor. Seeing their reactions when U and Butterfingers came out of the kitchen made up for it a little. 

Jones eyed the two warbling bots suspiciously. “Mr. Stark. Care to explain what those robots are doing in the apartment of a man born in the forties?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Someone failed history in high school. He wasn't born in the forties, he made a name for himself. There's a difference.”

“I don't particularly care Stark. What are they doing here?”

“If you pardon me Agent Jones, but I sent them here. Normally they assist Mr. Stark in his workshop, but as you have detained our cleaning crew, I took the liberty of setting them to sanitation work.”

Tony pouted. “Why J, what does it matter if the cleaning crew takes a little longer, that's what they're for.”

Jarvis remained unperturbed by his creators pout. “Indeed sir. However, Agent Jones’ men are turning our employees away at the door. It is uncertain when the Avengers will return. Captain Rogers has yet to form the habit of checking expiration dates. There are multiple items which are past due. I felt it expedient to remove and replace those items rather than risk another food poisoning incident.” 

Tony snorted. “Excellent thinking J.” 

Jones didn’t look as though he entirely bought it, but he moved on further into the apartment. Given Captain Rogers’ odd affiliation with the Winter Soldier, if he was going to find any sign of the asset it would most likely be here.

Internally, Tony was thanking every lucky star he’d ever heard of. 

He’d sent U and Butterfingers up to this floor to clean up the blood from the arm’s malfunction. He told them to get the hall clean first, then make sure that the rest of the apartment was spotless. He’d almost froze when he’d realized they were still in the apartment, but the fact that they were coming out of the kitchen had reassured him enough that he could laugh at the startled agents. And Jarvis’ cover story about food poisoning had been a thing of beauty. The incident had involved Clint, not Steve, though Steve had been the only one present to look after the hawk. Tony highly doubted it was even  _ possible _ for Steve to get food poisoning. 

“Stark!”

Tony sighed and patted Butterfingers before heading further into the apartment. He had to go explain how Steve had a friend named Sam who sometimes swung by and used his guest room. A little bit of pep entered his step as he realized it would give him a chance to complain about the Falcon.

He whistled as he went to go do what he did best.


	4. Aftermath

* * *

“Sir, Captain Rogers and his team have returned.”

Jones’ head snapped up, eyes a little wide. The skyline outside the windows was lit up by the city lights. Night had fallen. 

He was out of time.

He had spent the entire day searching Avengers tower from top to bottom, and then searching it again when he didn’t find what he wanted. He had just spent the last three hours interrogating Tony Stark, demanding that Stark tell him where the Winter Soldier was tucked away, or he would charge him with treason and send his billion dollar ass to Gitmo. 

Stark had stuck to his guns, maintaining that the Winter Soldier wasn’t in the tower.

And apparently stalling Jones so the cavalry could return.

Tony grinned and adopted a truly terrible southern accent. “Why Johnny Ringo, you look like someone done walked ovah your grave…”

Zebrowski choked on a laugh and hurriedly tried to stifle it under the baleful glare of his boss.

Tony did a fist pump. “I knew you weren't a total stick in the mud!”

The soft chime of the elevator declared the presence of the new arrivals.The doors opened and the Avengers trooped in. They smelt of smoke and blood, and in Thor’s case the heavy tang of ozone. All were filthy, battered, and bruised. Dark marks under their eyes stood as a testament to how truly exhausted they were. But they stood tall and proud anyway, ready to face down these intruders in their home. 

Steve pulled off his helmet and set it on a side table. “Tony? What’s going on here?” 

Tony spread his hands helplessly. “Hey, don’t look at me. For once it’s totally not my fault! Agent whatever his face is here showed up at ass o’clock this morning to apprehend the Winter Soldier. I  _ told _ him the Winter Soldier wasn’t here. But he insisted and I said he was welcome to look. He’s been searching the tower all day! He hasn’t found  _ anything _ incriminating either, but he still seems to think I’m lying!”

“Aww, Tony, no.” Clint complained, dropping a duffle by the wall. “What would give him that impression?... Wait, you said they searched the tower. Tony! I swear to God, if you let someone steal my popsicles again…!” 

“Don’t get your bowstring in a knot feathers, no one got your precious _popsicles_ this time.” Tony folded his arms and eyed Agent Jones. “Now, unless I’m mistaken, I think Agent Jones is just about done here.” He smirked. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you waited for the majority of the Avengers to leave the tower before you came to do your little search. You’ve been over this tower with a fine toothed comb, and you haven’t found squat. Now the family’s home, and you have  _ definitely _ overstayed your welcome. I think we’re done here.”

Jones flushed an angry shade of red. “Now hold on a minute!”

“No.” Steve stormed forward, blue eyes snapping with fury. “No,  _ you _ hang on a minute. As I understand it, you spent the entire day searching this tower for the Winter Soldier. Did you have a warrant?”

“No. I don’t need one where terrorists are involved!” The agent’s eyes skated across the shield perched proudly on Steve’s arm and he wilted slightly, tacking on a sullen ‘sir’ at the end.

“Did you find anything?” 

“No, but I’m sure that…”

Steve held up a hand. “Son. Just don’t. You’ve been looking all day, and you haven’t found anything. That’s a fairly good indicator that you’re not going to. Now, the Winter Soldier is a brain washed P.O.W. and hasn’t been issued a terrorist status, so you can stop throwing that threat around. I’ll thank you kindly if you would please take your men and leave. I think Tony has been most patient with you.” He cocked an eyebrow at Tony. “In fact, given that it’s Tony, I’d say he’s been  _ exceedingly _ patient with you!”

Natasha ruffled Tony’s hair on her way to the kitchen, deftly avoiding his playful swats. “Pepper threatened to resort to extreme measures if he caused another media storm before the stitches came out. And heaven help him if he does anything that will postpone her vacation next month.” 

“Hey, I don’t get into trouble  _ that _ often!”

“Keep telling yourself that Tony.” 

Steve politely gestured Jones toward the elevator, ever the gentleman. “Agent Jones?”

* * *

 

 

It was almost another hour before Agent Jones and his men were finally gone.

The Avengers waited with varying degrees of patience, Steve anxiously pacing by the kitchen door. Clint had taken refuge perched on the back of a couch Thor and Bruce had claimed. Tasha watched impassively from the kitchen. Tony had dismissed the mach 28, but 42 and 46 continued to stay close, waiting for further instructions as they made circuits of the room like a pair of sentries. Finally,  _ finally _ Jarvis declared the tower clear of agents and any hidden cameras or microphones. 

“You may speak freely sirs and lady.”

Steve looked almost afraid to hear the answer to his most pressing question. “Bucky?” 

Tony was already up and moving, showing Steve rather than actually taking the time to answer. At his gesture the blue and silver suit split open, releasing Bucky from its confines. The sergeant stumbled a little as he stepped out, and Tony was quick to catch him. “James, you good?” 

“Yeah.” 

Steve swept in and scooped his best friend into a bone crushing bear hug without any preamble, just holding him tight. He’d been so worried when Tony had said the agents had searched the entire tower and found nothing. He’s seen the thermal gear some of them were sporting, there was no way Bucky could’ve avoided them all day like that. It had been reassuring to hear Tony tell Clint his ‘popsicles’ were safe, but the thought that Bucky was out there on his own again, running from both the law and Hydra had been a terrifying one. To see Bucky still somehow here and alright was a bigger relief than he was able to describe. Given the way Bucky was hugging back just as fiercely, he wasn’t the only one feeling relieved. 

It took him far longer than it should’ve to realize that something was off.

“Bucky?” He pulled back a little, eyes wide and jaw dropping in shock at the bandages wrapped thickly around Bucky’s torso. And at what was missing. “Your arm… what happened?...is that blood?”

“Im alright. The arm...It… it malfunctioned.” Bucky ducked his head, still not comfortable being the center of attention. 

To his relief, Tony piped up.

“Jarvis told me Barnes was in trouble, and when I got up there he was bleeding. That is an absolutely hideous plant in your hall by the way. Why on earth would you have that?!” Steve tossed a glare his way, and Tony hurried on with the explanation. “Anyway, the inside of his arm was a mess, and it was tearing into his flesh. I offered to try and fix it, and he said yes. So he popped the sucker off and we spent most of the night working on it down in the shop until Agent Chuckles showed up this morning. Oh, Bruce, I wasn’t sure what to do about the flesh injuries. They looked shallow, so I just made sure they were clean and packed them off to stop the bleeding. You should probably have a look at them. He’ll need painkillers, and I’ll need your help figuring out how to repair this fine wire mesh that translates the sensors in his arm to the nerve endings in his shoulder. The mechanics tore the mesh all to hell.”

“Of course. Whatever I can do to help.” Bruce promised. “Do I need to run down to medical right away, or is he already on something?”

“If you’ll permit me Dr. Banner, Sir has been slipping Sergeant Barnes his own post surgery medication all throughout the day. The sergeant won't be due for more for at least another two hours, and his injuries are not life threatening. You have time to bathe and there is coffee waiting for each of you in the kitchen. You have all been on your feet a great deal today, and I'm sure a few moments to relax and unwind would not go amiss. Also, bathing would reduce the risk of infection.”

“True enough.” Bruce ran a tired hand through his hair. “Bucky, is that OK with you?”

A small nod was his only answer. 

“Ok then. Meet me in medical in a half hour, and we’ll get you patched up right. I'm going to grab coffee and get all of this grime off." He grimaced. "Though probably not in that order.”

“We’ll be there.” Steve promised.

Clint sat up straighter on his perch and waved his hands. “Wait! Wait! Wait! You’re all gonna just walk away? Am I the only one who wants to hear the details? Come one you two,  _ spill _ !” 

Natasha calmly grabbed her partner by the ear and pulled him off the couch. “Food and shower first Clint. We’ll all meet up after Yasha has been seen to, and they can tell their story then. Now go shower, you smell of battle and several things I’d rather not name.”

The archer whined petulantly, but eventually did as he was told. 

The others followed his example, Bucky staying on the communal floor with Tony while Steve reluctantly went back down to his own floor to shower and change. It was probably one of the fastest showers Steve had ever taken. When he got back upstairs, he found Tony and Bucky right where he’d left them on the couch. Bruce had beaten Steve down, and the three were watching a Tom and Jerry cartoon of all things. The super soldier felt some of the tension leave him as Bucky chuckled along with the others over the antics of the cat and mouse. 

Maybe everything would be ok after all.

On screen the clever little mouse got the cat’s tail caught in a trap. Tom’s yowl was joined by the laughter of the men on the couch. Steve grinned and headed for the kitchen. Coffee sounded good, and it didn’t look as though Bucky was going to have a panic attack in the next six seconds. 

When he returned to the living room, the bulldog Spike was chasing Tom across the screen, and the rest of the Avengers had joined them. Steve shrugged and grabbed six more mugs and the coffee pot. After a seconds thought he dropped all the mugs on a tray and grabbed cream, sugar, and milk. It had been a long couple of days for everyone, and they all looked half dead on their feet. The adrenaline had worn off.

Good thing Jarvis made coffee in Avenger sized portions. 

Clint gave a pleased groan the second he saw Steve and made grabby hands at the pot. “Steve, you are the absolute best!”

Steve chuckled and handed him a mug. “You say that now, but we both know that’ll only last until Natasha gives you another back rub.”

Clint tossed a speculative look at the redhead. 

She ignored him in favor of coffee. “If you think I've got that kind of energy you are sadly mistaken. I'm not giving anyone a back rub until I've had at least five hours sleep.”

Tony stood up from the couch to stretch. “Well, now that Steve is here, let's get Barnes to the med lab. Clint’s gonna die of suspense if we drag it out!”

Bucky immediately went quiet. He accepted Steve’s hand up. Eyeing the others, the sergeant made a decision. “They...they can come along. If they want.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows at the quiet offer, but didn’t comment. 

Tony whooped. “You heard the man folks, party in the lab!”

* * *

 

 

Bucky shivered.

He'd been in labs more times than he could ever  _ hope _ to count, let alone  _ care _ to. And ninety-nine percent of the time those lab visits had resulted in pain, humiliation, and a memory wipe. More loss of self. The first time a doctor had tried to look him over after his escape from Hydra he'd lost control and reverted completely to the Winter Soldier. The poor man had done what was needed at gunpoint, and the Winter Soldier had beat a hasty retreat. When he'd come to the tower, he'd had the same problem with Bruce.

The solution had been embarrassingly simple.

Part of the problem had been the temperature. Like all labs the room was kept fairly cool, which was why Steve was sitting on the table beside him, arm looped around his waist. With his best friend the living furnace right next to him, that sense memory didn't stand much of a chance. As for the rest,Steve kept up a running dialogue whenever Bruce had to get close. It was enough to keep him grounded in the moment, and he'd only ever lashed out once since they'd made Steve’s company s.o.p. for medical visits.

Bruce ducked his head, shining a penlight into the raw hollow of Bucky’s shoulder. Tony had already warned him how sensitive the mesh was, and Bruce was being careful not to touch until the local anesthetic had really taken effect.

He gave the shivering sergeant a kind smile. “I think Tony was right. Most of these are pretty shallow. There’s one I want to put a few stitches on, but the rest should heal on its own. I’ll have to study that mesh at some point if Tony and I are going to repair it, but that can wait for now.” 

The mild mannered doctor put the pen light in the crook of his shoulder and reached for the suture kit he'd set out ahead of time.

“I'm going to give that anesthetic a couple more minutes to set in, then we’ll stitch that up. Ok?”

Bucky nodded, mustering up a smile for the man. Even after so many months, it was still a little bizarre to have people constantly check back and make sure if he was alright. Checking to make sure what they were doing was ok. It especially threw him for a loop here in the lab. But he was definitely getting better at a coping with their concern, and accepting that he was worth it.

“So...could we  _ please _ do story time  _ now _ ?”

Natasha facepalmed. “Clint, you are a child.”

“What!? You honestly going to tell me you're not the least bit curious about how he managed to walk around in an Iron Man suit without anyone getting wise?”

“He has a point.” Bruce agreed. 

Tony gestured. “Well then, let's not keep the nice folks waiting! Take it away James!” 

Bucky shivered. Steve’s arm tightened around him reassuringly. He flashed him a smile and started in on his tale. “Couldn’t sleep. The arm’d been acting up. Coordination was off, fine motor control was getting worse, had been for the past few days.” He gave Steve a shamefaced look. “I broke a few dishes gripping them too hard.”

“It's fine. I still break them too.” Steve assured him. 

“Oh! That's why you had to get a new frying pan last week right?”

Steve shot Clint a dirty look, but urged Bucky to continue. 

“The arm always aches a little, but last night it suddenly spiked. Been a few years since I hurt like that. I couldn't think. Smell a blood hit my nose and that was it. Was all Winter Soldier. I was hurt and under attack from my own body and I had to get out. Don't know why I ended up huddled by that plant in the hall, it just sort of happened. Next thing I know, I can hear Steve laughing, and Tony’s squatting on the other side of the hall asking if I needed help.”

“Friend Bucky, how could you have heard Steven’s  laughter? He was far away with us, leading us in glorious battle to victory.”

Bucky shrugged. “Recording maybe?”

“But why? Why play a recording of me laughing?”

Tony shrugged Steve’s question off. “Why not? Jarvis tried to talk to him but he was, and I quote, ‘unresponsive to auditory stimuli’. You're the one he responded to when Hydra still had him. If anything could reach wherever he'd gone, it was you. So I had Jarvis pick the most non-threatening noise you could make and play it on loop until he clicked back into reality.”

“That’s…” Bruce seemed genuinely impressed. “That's actually a good idea.”

The genius preened. “I try. Anyway, he wasn't in a really talkative mood, just letting his head rattle when I asked him questions and hissing at his arm every now and again. I’m not exactly the scariest looking person on the best of days, so post surgery and sleep deprived wasn’t really the biggest threat. He sure followed me back down to the lab without a problem. He opened the arm up, and when I couldn’t get deep enough to reach the damage he popped the whole thing off.”

Bucky shuddered at the memory. “I never apologized for making a mess of your trash bin.”

“See, that’s the problem, you’ve gotta stop apologizing for everything. I told you when it happened, there’s nothing to worry about. If I had to pop an arm off, I’d probably yodel a few groceries too. Anyway, he set the arm on my desk and kicked back to watch for a few hours.” 

Tony picked up a tongue depressor from the desk, playfully poking Bruce with it. Poking Bruce had become something of a habit, and occasionally Bruce poked him back. 

“I almost jumped out of my skin when he finally started talking to me again. Incidentally Steve, this guy has some truly excellent stories about you pre-serum. The historians would all lose their collective minds if they knew how much dirt he could give them on you. If it weren’t for morons like agent chuckles and his death patrol I’d invite some up to meet him. They’d have a field day.”

“Tony…” The warning went mostly unspoken. Steve was a private enough person anyway, but given his newly acquired super celebrity status in this new time, he was even more protective of anything really personal. His sketchbooks were especially well guarded, seeing as how there had already been one or two incidents of stolen pages. Sketches by Captain America were worth quite a lot. 

Tony poked Bruce again, brandishing his tongue depressor like a sword. “Anyway, agent what’s his face. He showed up around seven demanding to be let in. I brought all the Iron Men machs out to play, and got my latest winter one up to the lab. Not because he’s the Winter Soldier or anything like that, but the core temperature on 42 can regulate really well. You’d think there was a person inside.” He paused in his mock slice and dice of Bruce and glanced up at the nearest of Jarvis’ cameras. “Oh, and I put Beagle Protocols in place. Jarvis, you can sound the all clear and take those down, we don’t have to worry about prying eyes anymore. Put everything back where it belongs.”

“Very good sir.”

Leaning against the wall at the back of the room, Thor spoke up. “What are these, beagle protocols?” 

Steve lit up. “I understood that reference!” He blushed under the team’s sudden scrutiny and ducked his head. “He’s referring to the beagle in the Peanuts comic strip. Snoopy. Someone was snooping around our home.” 

“Spot on! Have a sucker Cap.” No one really saw where he got the sucker from, but sure enough, he handed a blue candy to Steve. 

Bucky cocked his head. “That’s not the explanation Jarvis gave the agent. He said it was the protocol for his liaising with emergency services.”

“Because it is. See, whereas a normal computer would be confused by that, mine is smart enough to take the way the order is given into account. I say activate, he hides anything in the tower that would prove interesting to seek and destroy teams, corporate espionage, or folks trying to get a sneak peak at the next Stark Industries toy. I say enact, and he starts liaising. The hiding stuff is a sub-program. Ask him to explain and all you get is a harmless little liaison program. No muss, no fuss. And no one can accuse anyone of lying, because no one specified which program he needed to explain.”

“Plausible deniability.” Tasha seemed approving. 

Clint looked impressed too. Grabbing his own tongue depressor, he flicked it with pinpoint accuracy to bounce off of Tony’s forehead. “The idiocy of certain government agencies aside, that doesn’t explain how Bucky spent the whole day in a suit without anyone getting wise.”

“Right. Jarvis, roll film.” 

The hologram projectors fitted into the desk for medical use whirred to life, projecting the scene from early that morning. Agent Jones making an ass of himself, Tony tossing witty retorts right and left. The agent demanding to see inside the suits, and the suits turning up empty. Tony remarking on the heat producing tendencies of some of his suits, and proving that 42 was still empty. And then Agent Jones making an ass of himself even more. 

The genius looked like the cat who got the cream. “Alright Jarvis. Now play the B roll.”

The images changed. It picked up in the lab. Bucky was pacing nervously around the lab, continuously glancing up at the ceiling. Waiting for Jarvis to give him the go ahead. At last it came. 

Bucky moved out into the hall, and from there to the stairs. An Iron Man suit waited for him. It folded the sergeant in and leapt into flight, darting up the center of the stairwell to the correct floor. It landed to let him out, then darted back downstairs and out of sight. 

He didn't wait to watch it go.

Bucky paused by the door a moment, then slipped into the communal floor living room and through to the kitchen. He hid in the pantry, and waited. 

Agent Jones and his goon squad arrived minutes later. And then Tony. They watched the altercation again, and then followed the mach 42 into the kitchen. There it quickly collected the fixings for breakfast and laid out a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. This and a glass of orange juice was quickly passed into the pantry to Bucky, and the mach 42 made up a second breakfast. It took longer this time, giving the soldier time to eat. When it was through, it walked up to the pantry door and enfolded Bucky as soon as he stepped out. It hid Bucky’s dirty plate and glass in the dishwasher with a few other items where it wouldn't be noticed, then carried Tony’s breakfast out to him on the couch. 

More clips followed. Clips of Tony casually slipping a pill into Bucky’s hand when no one was looking. A suit or a robot slipping food and a water bottle into the bathroom ahead of time before Tony and the mach 42 went in. 

“Don't worry Cap, the only thing happening in there is lunch. Your sergeant’s virtue is still intact.” Tony teased.

Clint tossed another tongue depressor at his head. 

On screen, other clips showed Bucky slipping in and out of the suit for bathroom breaks throughout the day. The suit would always keep walking as if nothing had happened, and would walk by again when Bucky let Jarvis know he was ready to get back in. They ended when the Avengers returned home and Jarvis released Bucky for the last time. 

“You spent the  _ entire _ day on your feet in an Iron Man suit?” Clint grinned. “You’re legs had to be killing you by the end of that.”

Bucky shrugged, leaning tiredly against Steve and taking comfort from his warmth. “It’s been a long couple of days.” He mumbled. Now that he finally felt safe and relatively pain free, his exhaustion was finally catching up to him. “Anything else?”

Clint raised his hand. “I just have two questions. One: Where did Tony hide the arm? I mean, they might have mistaken it for a piece of an Iron Man suit from a distance, but that gets all shot to hell if they notice it isn’t hollow.” 

“Dum-E’s good for something aside from messing up with the fire extinguisher.” Tony teased. “The arm is in a compartment down in his base. There’s room and to spare, and even if they took scans of him it would just look like more gears and cables. What’s your second question Hawk Guy?”

Clint aimed a rude gesture in the billionaire’s general direction, but addressed himself to the rest of the group. “Two: What happens now?” He made a helpless motion. “I mean, storming Avengers tower in broad daylight? That’s pretty ballsy, even with all of us gone. I’m pretty sure Jarvis could take out several platoons at a go all by himself if he had a mind to. Not that anyone but us knows that, but  _ still _ ! We have  _ got _ to lose Barnes some enemies, or one of these days they’re gonna actually  _ get _ him!” 

Steve drooped a little, and his voice sounded even more tired than he looked. “I’m trying. The more evidence that comes to light, the more sympathy I can get folks to generate. It’s gonna be a long, uphill battle though.”

“Steve, if you make any old guy uphill jokes, I will throw my used tongue depressor at you.” Tony warned. “And believe me Clint, the CIA’s not going to get away with this either. Jarvis is already looking into their systems and as soon as I’ve had a few hours sleep I’ll help him. It’s been awhile since I hacked into the CIA, SHIELD always had the juicier secrets. But, fair’s fair. The CIA just jumped to the top of my shitlist, and that is a special place in hell to be in. They’ll be hearing from me soon.” 

Natasha inclined her head. “I’ve left a standing request with my contacts to send me any information they have on Hydra, specifically in regards to the Winter Soldier. If Hydra makes a move on Yasha, we should have some forewarning there.”

Clint raked a hand through his hair. He paced a few short steps then backtracked, anxious and uncertain. His eye caught Natasha’s. She seemed to know what he was considering, and gave a nod. For a few seconds he seemed to fight it, but at last his shoulders slumped in defeat and he finally stopped pacing. “If worst comes to worst… I have a safe house he can stay in. It’s currently in use, but… I think that he would be alright with them.” The archer snorted. “Then again, spending time with them might actually help him. Next to you guys, they were the most instrumental in helping me get over my own brainwashing with Loki.”

Bucky held out a hand. Without a second’s hesitation, Clint clasped it. “Thanks Clint.”

Clint grinned. “No problem.”

Natasha folded her arms. “Don’t read too much into his hesitance Yasha. Clint is very protective of the people in his safe house. If a mission hadn’t gone south I probably still wouldn’t have met them.” 

“Understood.”

Thor finally pushed himself off from the wall to stand behind the table and place a hand on the shoulder of both super soldiers. “Heimdall will vouch for the veracity of your story in midgardian court if any should question why our friend committed such atrocities. But, if all else should fail; know that Asgard is always open to you as well, and will offer you sanctuary in your time of need.”

Steve’s face was awash with awe and gratitude as he looked around at his team. His friends. And he felt his heart swell at the help they were offering him and Bucky, shoring them up and supporting them in their areas of weakness. Medical care, technical help, even alternate places to stay if they needed it. 

“What did we ever do to deserve friends like you?” Bucky asked quietly, summing up Steve’s feelings better than he could’ve ever hoped to.

Tasha leaned down and brushed an affectionate kiss to his forehead. “Much the same as we did to deserve you and Steve.”

“Which was?”

She smirked. “That is for us to know, and you to surmise. But make no doubt that it's worth it. And so are you.”

“Spasibo Natalia… Thank you, all of you.”

* * *

 

 

“Easy Bucky. Just take a deep breath.” 

Bucky shuddered, pressing himself harder against the chair back. “Damnit! You take a deep breath Steve, I’m busy fucking panicking!” 

“Language.”

Bucky rolled his head to glare at the blonde beside him. “Really Steve? Really?” 

The captain blushed. “Sorry. It slipped out.”

His best friend snorted. 

It had been almost a week and a half since the CIA incident and they were all still on edge. Particularly Bucky. Steve understood. Being an arm down probably didn't help. It made him feel vulnerable. Tony was almost through with repairs, but Bruce had insisted that Bucky wait until the stitches came out before trying to reattach the bionic limb.

Both Tony and Bruce also agreed that the mesh was wearing out and would need to be replaced soon. Tony had already fabricated one. The fact that they would need to put him under to replace it had only put Bucky even further on edge. 

Steve wasn't sure how they were going to deal with that.

Bruce strolled back across the examination room with a pair of scissors. “Given the circumstances, I think he’s entitled.” He chided gently. The scientist unwrapped the bandages twined around Bucky’s torso and shoulder, then removed the gauze pad underneath. He leaned down to peer into the hollow of the shoulder, shining a penlight into the space. “Oh, yes, that’s healed nicely. We’ll be able to get right to it without anymore delay.”

Another shudder ran through the sergeant, and he clung tighter to his friend. “I know that’s good news, but that really doesn’t make me feel any better Bruce.”

The scientist sighed. “I know. I wish there was more I could do to help you with that. I really do.” He set the penlight aside and pulled a tray across the desktop to him. It contained an oddly shaped piece of metallic silver cloth. Smooth on one side, the cloth was heavily textured on the other. The pattern almost resembled the weave of fine chain mail, or the whicker of an intricately woven basket. The edges of it were thicker, an almost braided trim giving something to anchor it. 

Bruce scooted the tray closer so Bucky could see it better. “Tony finished fabricating this a couple days ago… Are you ready to do this? I mean, we can wait if you like. But, if we do replace the mesh, that’s more healing time before we can reattach the arm. The mesh will need to fully integrate with your nervous system before you can put it to work.”

Bucky trailed his fingers over the mesh already in his shoulder. He could feel where it was wearing out, wearing thin. Could feel the tears, and the raw pink scars underneath where skin was never meant to be. Bruce would have to excise the scar tissue as well to ensure a smooth sensitive surface for the mesh to bond to. “So, delaying now just means spending more time as the one armed bandit?” He asked dryly. 

“One armed bandit?”

Bucky shrugged. “Clint.” 

“Ah.” Bruce sat back in his chair. “I should’ve known. Yes, that about sums it up. But we’re not going to push you into anything Bucky. You have my word on that.”

“I know. I just…” the soldier swallowed hard. “You’re sure you have to put me down to swap it out?” 

“Down? No. Under? Yes. There’s a difference, and I don’t ever want to put you down. I do think it would be better for all involved if you went under though.” Bruce agreed. “I know you can turn off some of the sensors in your arm so that you don’t experience as much pain when it’s damaged, and that that allows you to sit still while someone does maintenance on it. But that mesh is a completely different story Bucky. It’s plugged directly into your nervous system. If I take that off while you’re awake it will be incredibly painful, and could even send you into shock. For your safety, I think it’s best that you go under while I do this.

Steve wrapped a consoling arm around Bucky. “If...If it’ll make you feel better, I can hold the chloroform under your nose.” He clearly didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t back down. 

Bucky and Bruce answered in tandem. 

“Absolutely not.”

“I wasn’t going to use chloroform!”

That got the sergeant’s attention. “Then what  _ were _ you going to use?”

“This is a  _ surgical _ procedure, not a damn  _ kidnapping _ !...Chloroform! You make it sound like I’m going to throw some on a rag and just clap it over his face.” 

The two soldiers gave him blank looks.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “General anesthesia can be administered via tube and breathing mask, but I didn’t think you’d much appreciate a mask covering your mouth and nose like a muzzle. I went with option two, which is administered intravenously. I put in an IV line. Done. If you’d rather inhale, we can do that, I just didn’t think you’d be comfortable with it. It’s whatever you decide Bucky. But I need to know whether you’re ready to do this, or if you’d rather put it off for a few days.”

He sat back in his chair, giving the two super soldiers time to think it over.

The room fell quiet. The soft sound of their breathing whispered through the air, quiet and oddly reassuring. Bucky leaned against Steve, wanting the warmth. No one was really sure why he put out more heat than everyone else, his baseline temperature wasn’t that much higher than the average human male. Here in this cool room, the heat seemed to radiate off of him like a furnace. Whatever the reason, Bucky was grateful for it. It certainly wasn’t a side effect he’d gotten from Zola’s knockoff version. In fact he generally ran cooler than average.

He hated the idea of being put under for any length of time, especially when he was already so vulnerable. He  _ hated _ it. Every time he had been strapped down and sedated he’d lost a little bit more of himself. Sedatives and anything to do with medicine scared him like nothing else. 

But, he  _ needed _ the arm. 

Hydra would surely come for him sooner or later. Hydra, or one of the ‘alphabet agencies’ as Tony called them. The incident with the CIA the week before had been far too close. Bucky was realistic enough to know that he probably wouldn’t have gotten away without Tony’s help, much less stayed hidden the entire day. Not without significant injuries, and possibly even deaths. He couldn’t stay so vulnerable. If he should need to go on the run, god forbid because Steve would throw a conniption fit, he would need to be at his best. 

If this was what needed to be done, then so be it.

He took a deep breath. “Do it.”

“You’re certain?” Bruce wiped his glasses and put them back on his nose. When the sergeant nodded, Bruce pulled out a phone. “Alright then. Let me text Tony and have them prep the operating room. We’ll be ready to go fairly quickly… um, I need to know which form of anesthesia you’ll be more comfortable with.”

“I… I can’t do the mask. I just… I just  _ can’t _ .”

The scientist patted his shoulder comfortingly. “It’s alright. Give me a few to make sure everything’s in order, and I’ll come back to take care of you.” 

“Ok.”

The two super soldiers waited alone for Bruce to return, leaning on each other. They couldn’t be sure, but it felt as if Jarvis had brought up the temperature just a little in the exam room to try and help. The usual antiseptic smell had definitely been lessened since his last exam when he admitted it was a bit of a problem. 

Bucky appreciated it immensely.

Just like he did every time Bucky needed medical help, Steve had an arm looped around his friend’s waist. The sergeant had taken it a step further and let his head tip back onto the taller man’s shoulder. Screw what Stark or Barton or anyone else would say if they caught them, Steve was his best friend and he needed the emotional support damnit! Or else he was going to crumble to the floor and he wasn’t sure he would be able to get up again.  

“It’ll be alright.” Steve’s quiet voice whispered in his ear. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll be just fine.” 

“Well, now that Captain America’s said it, it’ll have to happen.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Jerk.”

“Punk.” Some of the tension bled out of him and he cast a smile up at the huge blonde dork that somehow still wanted to be his friend after everything he’d done. 

The rest of the wait was a little easier to bear after that.

Bruce returned half an hour later with a prepped syringe. “All set in surgery. You ready?” He held out a hand the minute Bucky started to get up. “Oh, you don’t have to get up. I know this is hard, so I brought a sedative with me. I’ll do it here where you’re comfortable, and then Steve and Thor will help me get you into surgery. Is that alright?”

Bucky sank back down into his seat with a nod.

Then Bruce uncapped the syringe. And suddenly Bucky was back in Hydra’s clutches, with some deranged mad scientist coming at him with tools and chemicals. He could see Bruce, but it was as if someone had taken a translucent photograph and laid it over what he was seeing. 

He saw both, and for one horrible second he didn’t know what was real.

Steve felt it happen. He stared down at his friend in shock. Bucky had gone stock still. His face was pale, and his eyes were locked on Bruce and the syringe. “Bruce wait, something’s wrong. Bucky? Bucky? Buck, listen, I need you to listen to me. You’re here, you’re safe, I promise you. You’re home. You’re safe, you’re with me.” 

The scientist immediately put the syringe down and backed up a few steps, hands up to show that he wasn’t a threat. 

Steve kept up the running dialogue for Bucky, keeping a firm hold on the soldier in case he lashed out. Bruce could easily take whatever hit Bucky might throw, but unless they wanted the big guy loose in the tower it would be better if Steve took it. 

“Steve?” 

The captain tightened his hold. “I’m here. You with me now?”

“Yeah.” 

Steve puffed out a breath of relief. “Good. Where are you at Buck? Where’s your head?”

The sergeant sucked in a ragged breath and ducked his head, shame searing across his cheeks. Blue grey eyes closed tight, trying to block out what he was seeing, real or imaginary. “The needle.” He whispered, voice hoarse. “They wanted to put me down for something… I-I could see it...But I could see B-Bruce too…”

Across the room, Bruce still had his hands palms up. “Are you alright?”

“...I didn’t know what was real.”

Bruce slowly lowered his hands and dropped down onto a stool. His expression was thoughtful, assessing the problem carefully, looking for a viable solution. “Bucky… Could you still feel Steve?” He smiled at the nod. “So, you knew he was real. You weren’t sure about the rest, but you  _ knew _ that Steve was really here with you.” 

“Yes.”

“Ok, that could help. If you have more incidents like this, focus on what you  _ know _ to be real. And tell Steve or one of us when this sort of thing happens…” He hesitated. “That being said, do you still want to do this?”

Bucky shoved his hair out of his face. “Yeah... Yeah. It needs to be done. Putting it off isn’t going to help. I can do this, I just… Don’t let me look? I see someone coming at me with a needle, I can’t help but respond.”

Steve gave his waist a squeeze. “Ok. I can do that.” He stood and moved around to sit on Bucky’s left side and grab his waist again. “Here, lean back.” 

Bucky obeyed. Casting one last nervous look at Bruce, the soldier leaned into Steve’s chest. The poor man almost jumped out of his skin when Bruce stood up, and every muscle in his body locked at the sight of that damn syringe.

“It’s alright.” Steve soothed. He tucked Bucky’s face into the crook of his neck. “It’s alright. Focus on me. You’re safe, you made it home.” 

“Steve.” Bucky mumbled. “...stay with me?”

“Till the end of the line.” Steve assured. He waited until he was certain Bucky was focused completely on him, then gently gripped his remaining wrist and turned it innerside up. He held it out away from Bucky’s body. 

A nod to Bruce was all that was required. 

The scientist quickly closed the remaining distance and cradled the arm, running a swab over the skin to ensure that it was clean before inserting the needle. He could feel tremors running through the soldier’s arm, and he could tell that Steve could feel it too. He finished and put a bandaid over the puncture and retreated, waiting for it to take effect. It would take a few minutes, even Zola’s knockoff version of the serum was a force to be reckoned with. Bruce had broken out the stuff he’d made to put Steve under, just to make sure it would work.

Bucky was shaking. 

So many memories were flashing through his mind, most of them bad. He pulled his arm back against his chest, slotting it in between the two of them to protect the one he still had. It was irrational, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. He had to. And he focused on Steve. The one thing he knew was real. 

He focused on the smell of the detergent from his t-shirt, the scent of his aftershave. Bucky wanted to laugh. Steve  _ still _ used the same stupid aftershave, or something that smelled awful close to it. Focused on the sound of Steve’s breathing, the soothing sound of his voice rumbling above his head. He kept his eyes closed, kept his face tucked into Steve’s neck. He could feel the sedative beginning to take effect, making him feel heavy and lethargic, and it sent a thrill of terror through him. But Steve never once faltered. He never had, once he was sure he was in the right. Bucky had always admired him for that. He sighed, and let consciousness slip away.

Tension bled out of Steve.

Bruce leaned forward. “Is he under?” The captain nodded and Bruce tucked his phone away. “Alright. I’ll have Jarvis ask Thor to step down and lend us a hand.”

“Not necessary.” Steve shuffled his unconscious friend around until he could cradle him in his arms. “I have him.”

Bruce chuckled. “I see...I take it you’re going to want to sit in on the surgery and watch?”

“You take it right.”

“Ok. Bring him this way. We’ll have one of the nurses get you scrubbed up, then you can carry him into the OR.”

Steve hesitated. “Nurses?”

Bruce shrugged, holding open a door for Steve to get through. “I need the help Steve. Do you have any idea how much effort goes into a surgery? Don’t worry about anyone outing him, Tony and I have put a lot of thought into the issue and we’ve got it sorted out. So long as nothing goes wrong, and we really don’t expect it to, no one will even see his face.”

* * *

 

Bruce wasn’t lying. 

The surgical staff had been kept to a minimum. Steve shielded his friend with his own body, keeping his face out of their view as much as possible. He settled Bucky on a gurney in a different room, then allowed the nurses to help him into scrubs. 

In the operating room a curtain had been hung from the ceiling, bisecting the table. On the floor, a line had been taped out to mark where the boundary the nurses weren’t allowed to cross was. Once on the table, the curtain hid Bucky from the ribs up. The rest of him was covered in a sheet. By the time the nurses were allowed into the room, Bucky was completely hidden from view. 

Steve stood back out of the way, and settled in to watch.

* * *

 

Bruce carefully peeled back the old mesh from Bucky’s shoulder socket. It was a tricky business. The whole reason Bucky could use it was because the flesh fused to it, as if it were another slab of muscle, or a layer of skin. He had to separate the flesh from the metallic mesh, and without causing any more damage than necessary. The end of the mesh finally came free, and he passed it to the nurse. 

The nurse stared at the bloody mesh in shock. “Wh… Doctor, what is this? I thought we were replacing a faulty implant.”

“We are.” He agreed. He leaned down to get a better look at the surgical site. “He was part of a special medical trial. This was an experimental piece of work, and it does the job beautifully, but the wear and tear is too strong. So, Mr. Stark engineered a stronger more wear resistant version for me to swap out. Now, please set that aside. I need a sponge please.”

The rest of the surgery went fairly smoothly. 

Bruce inserted the new mesh and started to lay in stitches along the edges to keep it in place. He’d had a long anonymous talk with several gifted surgeons who owed him favors about how best to anchor an experimental implant in a patient when said implant moved and folded like a thick cloth, and needed to lay a particular way. They had all eventually agreed that stitches along the edges would be best. The center would be held in place by packing, as he had explained that it needed to lay along the surface and fit into curves of the patient’s muscles. Single stitches could be laid in here and there to tuck it into the dips of the muscle. Bruce was fairly sure he wouldn’t need many additional single stitches. But he put two in the center of the mesh at the deepest point just to be safe. He wasn’t going to take any chances with Bucky’s health. He didn’t want to have to try this again. 

It had been hard enough getting Bucky comfortably under the first time!

“Alright. That ought to do it. Ladies, thank you for your help. If you would leave the room for a minute, we’ll move the patient and you can go on about your duties. Steve? I’m going to need your help wrapping him up.” 

One of the nurses arched an eyebrow at the approaching super soldier. “I thought I recognized you. What sort of patient needs Captain America to sit and spectate?” 

“Any patient who’s a friend of mine ma’am.” Steve smiled. “Plus, he’s awful heavy. You don’t have clearance to know who he is, so that leaves me. Have a good day ma’am.” He nodded to the others, the politest dismissal any had ever received. “Ladies.”

* * *

 

As soon as the women were clear of the room he helped Bruce sit Bucky up. 

Steve held Bucky upright while Bruce packed the hollow firmly. He even passed the bandage roll around and back when Bruce needed him to. Once Bruce was through, Steve gathered his best friend up and carried him back to their floor. 

Normally Bruce would insist on monitoring Bucky’s vitals while the anesthesia wore off, but Jarvis was already monitoring them more closely than Bruce ever could. Bruce camped out in Steve’s living room just to be safe, but other than that he left Bucky to Steve’s care.

* * *

 

Bucky woke in a warm bed, the reassuring weight of his living furnace best friend heavy and warm beside him. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Getting in bed with me now Rogers? People are gonna talk.” 

Steve lowered his book. “And I’ll say the exact same thing you told me back in the thirties and forties when I was sick and we couldn't pay the heating bill: let ‘em talk. You need me here, here’s where I’m gonna be.”

Bucky huffed a breath. He didn’t feel like getting up anytime soon, and he certainly wasn’t going to turn down the living warmth at his side. He propped his head on Steve’s shoulder so he could see what his friend was reading. “Fine. If you’re going to stick around then tilt the book.” Steve obligingly lifted the book so his friend could see it. The sergeant nodded, satisfied. “Hope you picked something good.”

“Of course. I’m not too far in yet. Do you want me to restart so you get the beginning?” 

Bucky shrugged and Steve paged back to the front of the hardbound novel. 

“What’s the title?”

Steve turned the book so he could see. “ _ Rangers Apprentice _ . Clint suggested it actually. Apparently it's a series written by a man in Australia.”

“Hmm...Any good?”

“So far. He said it was adventure with a bit of fantasy.”

“You didn't used to go for fantasy.”

Steve looked affronted. “I liked  _ The Hobbit _ !”

“Yeah, I know. You only read it ten or eleven times. Does anyone even remember that book?”

Steve flipped the book around and opened it back up to page one. “Apparently so. I guess they made a trio of movies out of it recently. I haven’t had a chance to sit down and watch yet, but it’s on my list.” 

The two settled down to the book, Bucky quietly reading over Steve’s shoulder. Inevitably Steve would reach the end of the page first, then patiently wait for Bucky to catch up. Steve had always been a bit faster, and Bucky had always said it was because he had nothing else to do  _ but _ read when he was too sick to get out of bed. The sergeant actually felt a little proud that he wasn’t too godawful slow compared to his friend, nodding at the end of each page to let Steve know that he could flip the page. They made it through a few chapters before either dared to breach the silence again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah Buck?”

Bucky swallowed. “The surgery...did it work?”

Steve put a finger in the book to mark his place and gave his friend a one-armed hug. “You came through with flying colors.” A playful smirk on his lips, he brought his hand up to ruffle Bucky’s shaggy hair. 

Bucky swatted him away, an amused glint in his eye. “Punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve happily shot back.

* * *

 

 

“Steve!”

The super soldier almost overbalanced his chair when his best friend's voice cracked across the open air like a gunshot. He’d been out on the deck sketching the skyline again. Bucky had wanted to read, and the wind kept turning the pages on him. 

He’d only gone inside fifteen minutes ago at most! 

Steve dropped pad and pencil, not caring if they blew over the edge of the balcony. It had only been two weeks since the surgery, and Bucky was still sorely on edge with only one arm at his disposal. His nightmares were cropping up more often, and if what Steve was hearing at night was any indication, he was worried about Hydra coming back to get him while he was an arm down. Steve didn’t blame him, he worried about it too. 

He raced back inside ready for anything. 

Bucky stood in the center of the living room facing the television, the book forgotten on the floor at his feet. His face was pale, blue grey eyes wide with shock. Steve scanned the room, but didn't see any immediate threat.

“Bucky? What's wrong?”

The sergeant soundlessly pointed at the screen. The news station cut to a car commercial, and Steve huffed in annoyance. “Jarvis, could you please re-play what I missed?”

“Certainly Captain Rogers.”

The tv jumped back to a pair of news anchors sitting behind a ridiculously large desk, the stereotypical scenic shot of a city panorama in the background. The female anchor was wearing far too much makeup, her skin too pale and her ruby red lips a lurid slash in her face. Steve truly didn’t understand the fashion sense of modern women that thought that was attractive. Bucky had commented on it a time or two as well. 

The woman looked at the camera and droned on about heat waves and fashion trends. And then her male co-host joined the party. 

“In other news, sources at the CIA confirmed that the Central Intelligence Agency apprehended a mole in their ranks. He was arrested earlier today while attempting to download classified information from the CIA’s servers. Our source confirmed that the information pertained to the Avengers, though the nature of that material remains undisclosed to the general public. We take you now to the scene, where our reporter Jackie Kendall is covering the transfer of the mole live. Over to you Jackie.” 

The screen switched to an on the scene reporter on the steps of a massive public building. She was dressed nicely, hair half up in a neat updo. She smiled into the camera. “Thank you Charles. It’s been absolute chaos all morning since the arrest of a high level CIA agent. Sources say that he was trying to download classified information from a server. Information that pertained to the Avengers. We don’t know… wait, wait it looks like they’re bringing him out to the car now. Andrew, get a shot of this!” 

The camera panned to the steps where men in suits escorted a man with a coat over his head down the steps toward a waiting car. Reporters and cameramen and photographers swarmed the lot, shoving cameras and microphones in their faces and screaming questions. The men in suits yelled ‘no comment’ and ‘clear the way’ over and over again, and were promptly ignored. The people were pressing in closer and closer, jostling and shoving to be the ones to get the perceived scoop. 

What happened next was probably inevitable. 

Steve felt as if he was watching it all happen in slow motion. The man with the coat stumbled, ending up on one knee. The tweed jacket slipped from his head, baring his face for all to see. 

And the cameras surged in. 

Agent Jones stared venomously up at the cameras. With the loss of the coat, he seemed to lose any and all vestiges of composure or self control. His eyes flamed with hate as he yelled and screamed at the onlookers and at the men who held him. As he fought for a freedom that had long since been lost. 

“I know they have him in the tower! The Avengers have the Winter Soldier! They cannot hide him forever! We will have him, and when we do we will bring the world to it’s knees! Cut off one head, two more shall grow! Hail Hydra!” 

The suits finally seemed to recover from their shock and hurriedly wrestled Jones into the waiting sedan. The reporter was back on screen, adding her own two cents comments as she passed it back to the news anchors behind their too-big desk. Steve didn’t hear a single useless word of what they said. 

He whirled to reassure Bucky that it was going to be ok, that he was safe here. He was opening his mouth to say all of that and more, when he spotted Tony leaning in the doorway. 

“Have you seen this?”

The genius shrugged. “I’m the one who tipped them off that they had a mole. It took me three days to convince them they even had one, and another three before they’d let me set up a trap for the bastard. Then we just had to wait for the slimy little rat to take the bait.”

“You knew he was Hydra?”

Tony shrugged again. “I’ve dealt with a lot of alphabet agencies over the years. They’ve all got a certain level of rudeness outside of interrogation. Jones was just a little  _ too _ prickly, even by CIA standards. I had Jarvis dig into his history, and the more he found, the more I didn’t like the asshole. Wasn’t sure who he was mole-ing for, could’ve been anyone. Didn’t know he was Hydra till just now. Very dramatic by the way, Hydra must have a kickass drama club. Anyway, knowing that Agent Asshole was Hydra, I wish I’d given the little prick a harder time when he was here... Oh! His partner, that little junior agent, kind of looked like Radar O’Reilly? He’s completely clean, by the by. Bad luck of the draw on his part.”

Steve shook his head. “You could’ve told us Tony.”

The genius glared at the frozen image of of the former Agent Jones on screen. “No one messes with my family.”

* * *

 

The Avengers waited with baited breath. 

Bucky was curled into Steve’s right side on the couch, the bandages finally off after five weeks of careful monitoring and bandage changing. Bruce was seated on his left and was playing a penlight over the new mesh, Tony squatting right beside him. If all went well and the two scientists gave him a clean bill of health, Tony would help Bucky reattach the arm today. 

Bruce smiled and slipped his glasses off. “Well, everything looks good Buck. The holes from the stitches have already closed, and it looks like the mesh has bonded exactly the way it was supposed to. One more test, then you should be good to go.” 

The scientist pulled out a clean paintbrush he’d borrowed from Steve and lightly drew the bristles across the mesh. The sergeant visibly jumped, he hadn’t been expecting it.

“I guess we don’t have to ask if he felt that.” Tony joked. 

“I guess not.” Bruce agreed. “No pain?” He hurried to check. Bucky shook his head. He seemed almost surprised by the fact. “Good. So we fixed that problem then. We’re not sure whether Hydra intended for the arm to hurt constantly or not, but either way, the new mesh should eliminate the problem. And like we told you before, the mesh is more sensitive than the old one, and should enhance your control over the arm.”

Tony was practically bouncing. “So we can give him his arm back now? Which by the way, is not the weirdest thing I’ve ever said, but it’s high on the list.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and moved to the other end of the couch so Tony could have the seat next to the soldier. “Yes Tony, you can give him his arm back.” 

Clint grinned, twirling a pen over his fingers. “ ‘bout time.”

“Indeed! I think our friend has been most patient while awaiting the end of his recovery. Let us at last restore that which is his.” Thor boomed in agreement. 

“You got it point break. So, without further ado…” Tony grabbed a briefcase off the coffee table and plopped it into Steve and Bucky’s laps with much aplomb. He flicked it open and turned it toward the sergeant. 

“Tada! Your arm, 2.0!”

Nestled down inside the briefcase was Bucky’s arm, as advertised. It was neatly folded, held in place by blue sponge padding. He would never know that Tony had specifically chosen the color to avoid any weapon connotation in connection to Bucky’s arm, as most weapons’ padding was black or grey. The arm itself was clean and highly polished. If they had to hazard a guess, most would’ve said that Tony had had the arm recoated, the metal gleamed so brightly. And all the scuffs and dents and scrapes had all been burnished away. The red star was gone as well. The arm was completely devoid of paint from shoulder to fingertips.

Bucky traced his own fingers.

Steve beamed. “It looks great Tony.”

“Shiny as a new penny.” Bucky agreed with an amused roll of his eyes.

Tony chuckled. “I did so much to that arm, it’s practically a different arm. The whole arm’s been recoated in a new titanium alloy, a stronger one, and the cables inside have all been replaced with new ones cast in the same titanium alloy and then coated in and out with vibranium.” 

The two super soldiers snapped their heads up and Tony confirmed what they were silently asking. 

“The same stuff that makes up Cap’s shield. It’s still one of the rarest metals in the world Cap, but these days we know exactly who to go to for it. Guess they thought a prosthesis for a war veteran turned super soldier was a good cause. And before you get your panties in a twist about them knowing, don’t worry about it. The only ones who know are King T’Chaka and his son crown prince T’Challa. They both gave their word of honor to keep it on the downlow, and they're about as truth and honor above all as Steve is. Plus, seems the two of you did a Wakandan national a huge service during the war, and they were more than happy to return the favor. Once they ok’d the vibranium was sent out within the hour. It arrived by Wakandan courier in under three days.” Tony sounded fairly impressed by that. 

“He stayed long enough to confirm the use of the vibranium, making sure I was on the level, and then he took the leftovers back to Wakanda as agreed. Given what the metal is capable of, I don't blame them for being so touchy about who has it. Underside of the mesh is coated in the same stuff by the way, it conducts through tissue astonishingly well.”

He gestured at the arm. “Anyway, being one hundred percent shock absorbent should definitely cut down on the wear and tear inside the arm, and you should need fewer maintenance checks that way. I tried to make the arm as ‘plug & play’ as possible.”

Bucky’s lips quirked. “Hey Steve...give me a hand?”

Across the room Clint cackled.

For a second Steve just stared. But then he was grinning and helping Bucky pull the arm out of the box. “Sure Buck, I'll give you a  _ hand _ with your  _ hand _ .”

Tony grimaced. “Wow Cap, that one was even worse.”

“Shut up Tony.” Steve shot back cheerfully. 

Bucky guided the arm back up to the socket, Steve cradling the lower arm to take some of the weight and keep it out of the way. Bucky awkwardly held the shoulder up against the socket. There was a soft hum, and as soon as the mesh touched base with the connections inside the arm an answering hum and a whir came from the prosthesis. There were a few quiet clicks, and suddenly all the sensation from the arm’s sensors flooded into his head. He could feel the arm again. 

But somehow it didn't feel quite the same.

Looking down at the handsomely re-crafted arm, Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to hate it the way he once had. It had been cleansed and remade, and maybe he could make it into something more than just a murderous weapon for Hydra. He stared at the fingers. Wiggled them. Hydra might have built the arm, and for seventy years they had called the shots. But he had escaped their hold. He had saved Steve, saved Captain America, with this arm! And when Hydra’s arm had turned on him, Steve and his friends had been there to set him back on his feet. They had  _ remaid _ the arm for  _ him _ . And now he would make it his own. 

Screw Hydra. This arm was  _ his _ now.

“Yo Barnes, think fast!”

Bucky caught the item Clint lobbed at him without a thought. He arched an eyebrow at the archer, then looked down at what was in his hand. It was a duck egg. Bucky gingerly rolled the egg between his palms, from metal to flesh and back, unable to believe that he hadn’t broken it yet. It should’ve been crushed the second he’d snatched it out of the air! He didn’t  _ do _ delicate. 

He’d broken half of Steve’s dishes within a week of moving into the tower for crying out loud!

Tony was beaming. “You know, when I told Bruce you could juggle eggs with the new upgrade I was being metaphorical. But you’re more than welcome to try if you feel like it. It’s nice to see the upped sensitivity works, your fine motor control should be leaps beyond what it was before.” He hesitated, and that alone was enough to get the attention of everyone in the room.

Tony stark  _ never _ hesitated.

The sergeant took a deep breath. He should’ve known the other shoe would have to drop. “Go ahead and spit it out Tony.”

“We need to make sure that the arm still functions correctly. I know you don’t like to open the arm up, but…” 

Bucky sighed and leaned against Steve. “I get it… do you need to do anything inside the arm or...do you just need to see if it will open?”

“Just open it.” Tony reassured. “It should open more easily than before. Just open it all the way, hold it for a couple seconds then let it go. I have a couple other things to show you, but let’s get that out of the way first. Bruce, could you grab the garbage bin?”

Bucky ignored the odd looks that last request garnered. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the arm as he had so many times before. Focused on what he wanted it to do. The arm whirred and clicked softly, obeying within milliseconds of his order. He was astonished by how much more responsive the limb was. His mind flashed back to what Bruce and Tony had said about the new mesh when they’d replaced it.  _ More sensitive indeed! _ He’d laid the arm open within seconds of Tony’s request. The arm was open from the shoulder all the way down through the fingers. 

And his stomach had barely twinged at all!

He held it for a moment while Tony checked the arm over, reassuring the genius that yes it was definitely easier to open and no, there was no chance he was going to yodel his groceries this time. A slight twinge of nausea was worlds beyond the crashing waves that he’d had to fight against before. 

He couldn’t begin to describe how grateful he was for that.

“Alright, you can put the hood back down.” Tony gave him a mischievous grin. “Now, there’s one other thing you need to know about your new arm. Everyone knows you for that arm right? Super soldier with a silver arm, there’s only one in the whole world! They don’t need three guesses to figure it out. Your arm already blocks out metal detectors and even blocks some of Jarvis’ sensors, and those are state of the art. But that means squat if someone gets a good look at your robocop cosplay. So, there’s a stealth feature embedded in the arm now. You flip it on and off the same way you open it up.” He made a shooing gesture. “Go on, give it a shot.”

Bucky shot Steve a nervous little smile, then stared down at the arm again.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted the arm to do, just that it now had something new that it  _ could _ do, and he wanted to see this new ability. He focused on it, using the same sort of laser concentration he used to have to employ to open it up. Nothing happened. He gave a frustrated huff and tried again. There! Something was going on at the tips of his fingers! He smiled, willing the arm to change. 

He felt when it happened, as if someone had flicked a switch in his head, and he was quick to memorize the feeling so he could do it again when he needed to. The change ran all the way up the arm in the space of a second. Dips and crevices between the plates smoothed and disappeared. Gleaming metal was replaced by soft pale fleshtone.  

Bucky’s jaw dropped in shock. “Tony…”

The billionaire almost looked embarrassed. “Holograms. You don’t have to use them here in the tower, but next time we go out for a night on the town you can wear whatever you like. That hologram will stand up under close scrutiny. About the only thing it won’t do is bleed, so don’t let anybody try to stick you in that arm.”

Bucky hesitantly ran his fingers down the inside of the wrist. “It… it feels real…”

“Yeah, like I said, I wanted it to be able to stand up to close scrutiny and I oof!”

Tony froze, the metal arm warm and heavy where Bucky had wrapped it around his shoulders in a tight hug. He'd expected maybe a cordial thank you, not a full out hug attack! He slowly wrapped his arms around the grateful soldier and relaxed into the hug. 

“Thank you.” Bucky rasped, his throat threatening to close up on him in emotion.

Steve leaned forward to see Tony over Bucky’s shoulder, tears standing in his eyes. “You did good Tony. You did really good… thank you.” 

“You're welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to anyone who catches Tony's reference!


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Hope it was worth it!
> 
> Also, I just realized I didn't post the translations for the Russian in previous chapter! I am so sorry for that! I'm going back and adding the translations in the notes right now. Also, I feel it should be said that I do not speak Russian. Thus my translations may not be absolutely correct. Also, I went with pronunciations, not with the actual Cyrillic. I read these stories aloud to my betas and I cannot read Cyrillic! So yeah, anyone out there wants to correct my Russian, please do!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Bucky stared out the window at the city of New York. 

The city gleamed in the twilight, cloaked in thousands upon thousands of glittering lights. Strings of light ran through her veins down below, the life and heartbeat of the city laid out for him to see. Behind him, he could hear Natasha and Clint moving around the kitchen, Clint teasing her about her taste in coffee. A smile twitched his lips. Clint would be singing a different  tune soon enough, Bucky’s nose said that Clint was burning the coffee. He just hadn't realized it yet. 

He took a deep breath and went back to looking out at the city.

* * *

 

Tasha had set all of this up. Steve and the Avengers had had to go on a string of short but hard and exhausting missions lately, and various agencies had inevitably shown up while they were away from the tower, demanding that the Winter Soldier be turned over to them. Jarvis always hid Bucky away in a suit and allowed them to search. The searches were becoming fewer and farther between, and no one had found anything. 

But Natasha had had enough. 

She'd made several calls to tell the heads of the various agencies what she thought of their ‘stalker shit’. She'd also told Shield that the Avengers were taking a night off, and anyone who put out the call to assemble for anything less than the world ending would answer to her. Given the reputation she’d worked hard to cultivate in Shield, she was confident that her warning would be heeded.

Bucky smirked. If they were smart they'd let her alone for a few days before asking her for anything else. Because she'd apparently gone to a lot of effort to set this up. And he'd be damned if he didn't like the sound of what she'd outlined for the evening. 

She wanted to dance.

Natasha had always loved to dance. And she said she'd really enjoyed swing dancing with him and Steve, and would like to do it again.  When Clint told her that Thor had expressed an interest in learning, that had sealed the deal. Natasha had cajoled, threatened and pulled strings to ensure everyone was here tonight.

_ Everyone _ . 

Tasha had even invited Thor’s scientist dame and her assistant, Bucky couldn't recall their names at the moment and that irritated him. Any lapse of memory irritated him really. He was fairly sure Thor mentioned one or both of them at least every other day, and there wasn’t any excuse for this.

They'd both accepted, and Thor had left with Tony’s chauffeur Happy to pick the ladies up from the airport. They were due back any minute, and Bucky was more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. These would be the first new people he'd met since Steve had introduced him to the Avengers. The first people to be introduced not to an ally or to the Winter Soldier,  but to James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. And they were both special to Thor. One the love of the Asgardian’s life and the other a deeply treasured friend. Bucky had genuinely taken a liking to the jovial Asgardian, and he wanted to make a good impression on them.

* * *

 

“Jarvis said that Happy just returned with Thor and the girls.”

He stiffened, all of his anxieties rushing to the forefront. 

Natasha stepped up beside him, eyes focused out the window but all of her attention focused on him. 

She was beautiful tonight, just as she always was. She had decided to go all out for the evening, and had dressed herself in the fashion of the era he and Steve had come from. She’d forgone her usual red and black attire for a blue swing dancing dress that hugged the curves of her bodice and flared out around her hips, a sweetheart neckline plunging down tastefully to reveal pale skin but nothing more. Her red hair had been pulled back at the sides and left to hang loose in the back, and even her makeup matched the era. 

About the only modern thing on her was a fine silver chain around her neck, a little silver arrow in the middle. 

His lips twitched at the sight of it. It hadn't escaped his notice that she wore it almost constantly. He could hear Clint swearing over the burned coffee in the kitchen, so he spoke candidly. “The necklace. A token of his esteem?” She cast him a surprised look and his smile softened. “You could do worse than a valued member of the Avengers little one.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I could. But I bought the necklace. He has self confidence issues at times, and I won’t allow it. So I wear the necklace to remind the blockhead how much he means to me. I owe him my life, he’s the one who gave me a chance at all of this, and I can never repay him for that. He’s my friend, and my closest confidant. I won’t let him think he’s worthless when he’s the one who showed me how very much my life could mean to the world. He's the one who showed me how beautiful life can be.”

Bucky smiled. “Then it seems I’ll have to thank him for looking after you when I couldn’t.”

That earned him a sharp look, and she turned to face him. “I can look after myself Yasha.”

“You can.” He agreed. “I made sure of that. There are a great many things I wish I'd never had to teach you.”

“But they were useful. I never would've survived if you hadn’t.”

“There's more to life than survival little one. The more I remember, the more it becomes true… I told you once that love was for children. That it was a weakness and that it could be exploited. Do you remember that?”

She hugged herself, and the sadness in her eyes made his heart ache. “Yes. I've guarded my heart jealousy over the years, as you told me to, and it has kept me alive.”

Bucky cradled her cheek in his metallic hand, just as he used to do when she was a child. She had always had such faith in him. It had been the main reason the asset became attached to his pupil again and again at Red Room, even when they wiped him after a mission and introduced him to the little red head all over again. 

Her faith never failed to boggle his mind.

He stroked his thumb over her cheek and she leaned into the contact.

“I was wrong. Guard your heart little one, but don't lock it so tightly away that it withers and dies.” He gestured at their surroundings with his other hand. “Without love, none of this would be possible. If Steve wasn’t so  _ stubborn _ , didn't care for me half as much as he did, I would be dead or still with Hydra. If Clint didn’t give a damn about people in general, you never would've had a chance at Shield. And if you didn't care  _ very _ strongly about the moron burning his coffee in the kitchen, I highly doubt he would've left the helicarrier in anything less than a body bag after Loki rolled his mind. Love takes many forms little one, and though it  _ can _ be exploited, too much good comes from people unafraid to love for it not to be worth the risk.”

“But what if they aren't worthy of my trust Yasha? What then? What if it all goes wrong?”

“But what if it goes right?” He responded.

Clint had gone silent in the kitchen some time ago. Bucky was almost certain the archer was listening, unable to leave the kitchen without drawing their attention to him. If he was smart, he'd take the time to dump the burned coffee and start over on a new pot. Tasha would kill him if she wasn't provided with her coffee in a timely manner. 

He brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. “Are you happy here Natalia?”

She was thinking her answer over carefully, he could tell from the slant of her eyes, the set of her jaw. She had grown up so much since he had trained her for the Red Room, and yet she was still so much the same.

“I am.” She finally admitted. “I'm happier here than I have ever been in my life.” A blush stole across her cheeks. “When I first started working with Clint and our handler Coulson on missions for Shield, I thought my life couldn't get any better. But over the years, through the good and the bad, they stayed with me. And they kept proving me wrong. In the Red Room, you only looked as far forward as you needed to complete the mission. To look any farther was presumptuous. Now I find myself looking to the future, and a part of me can't wait to see what the years will bring… But what of you Yasha? Are you happy?”

He clasped her hands. “I have a long way to go yet, before I can honestly say that I am happy. I don't think I ever could be while the threat of being found out hangs over you and the others. But I am content Natalia. And for now, that is enough.”

“I'm happy for  _ you _ though.” He added. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize you were the little spider I trained all those years ago.”

She smirked. “Is that all you see?”

He matched her smirk and gave her a playful push. “I see you as you are Natalia, but a part of me will always see my little spider.” 

The elevator dinged, signalling the arrival of Thor and the ladies. Bucky’s anxiety came flooding back at the sight of the two women, one on either of the Asgardian’s arms. Tasha had convinced Thor to dress for the period, and he now wore dark pants and vest over a deep burgundy shirt. 

At Bucky’s side, Natasha looped an arm around to rub his back. She seemed pleased with how the Asgardian looked.

“Take a deep breath Yasha.” She whispered, lips barely moving from her artful smile. “They’re just as nervous as you are, they know how important you are to Steve. They want to make a good impression too.” 

“Friend James! Lady Natasha!” Thor boomed his greeting, effectively cutting off any response Bucky might have made. “May I introduce you to my Lady Jane, the conqueror of my heart. And this is my lightning sister, the Lady Darcy.”

Bucky had already shook hands with Jane, but he faltered at Darcy’s epithet. “Lightning sister?”

The cheeky little brunet grinned and stuck out her hand. “I tasered Thor when he first showed up in New Mexico. But Jane hit him with her truck.”

“It was an accident!” The scientist protested.

Darcy popped her gum. “Twice.”

“It was an  _ accident _ .” Dr. Foster insisted. 

“Darcy!”

The brunet whirled around and gave an excited squeal. “Clint!” She rushed the blonde archer and threw herself into his arms for a proper bear hug. 

Clint didn't seemed to mind at all, and spun her around for good measure. “Hey Sparky, long time no see. How have you been?”

“Great with a capital G now that my boss isn't fighting space elves and disappearing through rifts in space.” 

“That was  _ one _ time Darcey!”

Darcy blithely ignored her boss in favor of pulling the archer back to the group and chattering away, one arm looped through his elbow. “Her extraterrestrial norse god boyfriend still swings by, but I haven't had to save the world from anything more dangerous than a three day science binge lately. Why didn't you tell me you were here though? I would've brought that thing I promised you if I'd known!”

“Awe Darce no, you didn't have to actually go and get one!”

The elevator dinged again, releasing Tony, Pepper, and Bruce into the common area. No one seemed to notice. 

Jane waved her hands. “Wait! Wait! Wait! How do you already know an Avenger besides Thor?”

Darcy gave Clint a startled look. “You're an Avenger? When did that happen?!”

“I've  _ been  _ an Avenger since the Battle for New York. Didn't I tell you?”

“No! Oh my gosh Clint, congratulations!” Darcy leaned in for another hug. 

Giving the archer’s black pants and flamboyant purple button up an overt once over she declared that her friend looked ‘Finer than fine china’, then went on to explain to her boss at a mile a minute. 

“Clint was one of Agent Ipod Thief’s jack booted thugs. We hit it off and now we're best texting buddies. Remember? You were yelling at thugs A,B, and C because they weren't being careful with your machines? You left your coffee on one of them and they didn't notice and carried it away. He's the one who rescued your coffee and brought it back because he said ‘only savages would steal a person’s coffee’. We agreed later that he was nice for a jack booted thug.”

“Friend Barton, you accompanied the Son of Cole in the province of New Mexico? I do not recall your presence.” Thor looked between Darcy and Clint, searching for an answer. 

“You probably wouldn't.” Clint rubbed his neck, seeming almost embarrassed. “When you came to get your hammer back, do you remember a crane with a box hanging from it?” He waited for Thor’s nod. “Yeah...I um...I was perched up there with my bow. You tore through half the agents Phil brought with him, and I told him he'd better call it soon ‘cause I was starting to root for that guy.”

Jane looked livid. “You’re a sniper?! You had  _ Thor _ in your  _ sights _ ?!” 

Clint shrugged. “I didn’t know him at the time, he was just some guy breaking into our base. It’s my job to be a sniper. And I never had to take the shot, Coulson called me off.”

“Verily.” Thor agreed. “I had yet to learn my lesson, and Mjolnir rejected me. I would have done the same, were I in the Son of Cole’s place. Do not hold a grudge against Clinton, Jane. He is the finest of friends, and his heart is truer than his aim.” 

Jane eyed Clint warily, not entirely ready to forgive.

Darcy giggled. “Jane, you hit your boyfriend with your car  _ twice _ , and your intern tased him. I think we can all forgive Clint for pointing but  _ not _ firing a weapon at him. Now come  _ on _ ! You’re raining on tonight’s parade! So smile damnit! Or Clint and I’ll make stupid faces at you until you do! And Clint and I have been texting since New Mexico, so I  _ know _ he’s got some good ones.”

Jane smiled, finally giving in. “Well, if Thor doesn’t hold a grudge, I guess I shouldn’t either. Sorry for snapping at you Clint.” 

He waved it off. “Not a problem. You two met James right?” The girls and Bucky nodded. “Ok, cool. Next to James is Natasha, and behind you are Tony, Pepper, and Bruce.”

Tony grinned and stepped to the side, striking a ‘Vanna’ pose and gesturing at Pepper and then Bruce as Clint introduced them. Pepper rolled her eyes and came forward to greet the two girls. Like Natasha, she had dressed to the era, and had traded in her usual business attire for a rich green swing dress trimmed in gold. Tony had, predictably, gone for an iron man red suit. Bruce had stuck to dark blues and blacks, a pair of suspenders completing the look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two ladies. I believe Natasha talked to you about dress sizes?” Both women nodded and Pepper ushered them back towards the elevator. “Excellent. In that case there should be something in your size waiting on Thor’s floor. You two can freshen up and then we can come back up here for dinner and the main event. Natasha and I can help with makeup and hair while the men wait up here and try to stay out of trouble.”

Darcy giggled. “Oh, I like her! Come on Janey! Let’s go see what Miss Potts and the Black Widow picked for us to wear to this super heroes version of ‘Dancing With the Stars’!” 

Natasha patted Bucky’s shoulder as she passed, following the others to the elevator. He wasn't sure whether to feel comforted or not. They all watched the ladies leave, and only once they were well and truly gone did anyone break the silence.

“Did you really set your sights on Thor, Clint?”

Clint shrugged. “Some unknown  really buff dude had broken through our perimeter and was tearing through our agents. If all else failed, Phil knew I wouldn't. So he set me up were I couldn't be reached and could see everything. I hate the idea now that I'm friends with Thor, but it was a solid plan tactically no matter how you slice it.”

Thor nodded. “I dealt most harshly with you and the good captain when I first returned to Midgard after Loki, friend Tony. It accomplishes nothing to dwell upon the mistakes of our past. We can only hope to do better in the future.”

Hearing Thor mention Steve, Tony made a show of looking around. “Speaking of the star spangled man with a plan, anyone know when he plans on showing up? I would've thought the Captain would be the first to say that you shouldn't  _ ever _ keep a lady waiting.”

Clint gave a helpless shrug. “Last I saw him was a couple hours ago. He got a call and jacknifed up out of his seat. Stuttered out a quick ‘I'll be right there’ and bolted out of here faster than Tony when he's late for date night with Pepper.” Tony huffed at the analogy and Clint shot him a shit eating grin. “Anyway, he said on his way out that he'd be back as soon as he could, but that this was something extremely important. I asked if he needed backup and he just said that you can't take backup to meetings with this guy, it looks bad. The way he said it, I got the impression he's not meeting anyone dangerous, just someone you can't bring Iron Man, a norse god, or an ex-assassin with you to meet.”

Tony huffed. “Would it kill spangles to give a bit more info than that?”

“A bit more info than what?” Sam stepped off the elevator. Like everyone else he had dressed as close to 40s fashion as his wardrobe permitted, and he looked quite dapper in shades of dark gold and tan. 

“It seems Steve was called into a last minute meeting, but no one knows where or with who. And if Nat finds out who it is she's going to give them an earful.” Clint summarized. 

Sam looked puzzled. “That's not usually like Steve… Unless this is the meeting he was telling me about a few months back.”

“Spill.” Tony ordered.

Sam grimaced. “Not much to spill, it was an in passing sort of deal. He'd been trying to get a meeting with a gentleman since April, and apparently getting schedules to match up was a nightmare. He was grumbling, and said that if his luck kept running the way it was it’d be Christmas of next year before he managed to get five minutes with the dude.”

“Any idea who it was?” Clint tossed out hopefully, but Sam was already shaking his head. 

“No. We were grabbing a meal and that's when our food got to the table. I was going to ask afterwards, but a call to assemble came right as we were leaving. It was those wild tiger things, remember?” The other Avengers grimaced, they knew exactly what critters he was talking about. “I guess it just slipped my mind.”

Clint heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hope this meeting or whatever was worth it, ‘cause Nat’s going to have kittens when she finds out.”

* * *

 

 

The women returned half an hour later.

Jane and Darcy were resplendent in the dresses Pepper and Natasha had picked out for them. For Jane, they had gone the more sensible cut with a squared off neckline. They had picked a deep butter yellow dress trimmed with black lace. Pepper had pulled Jane’s hair back into a french twist accented with a barrett. 

For Darcy, they had gone a little more flamboyant. Her dress had large multicolored flowers printed on a black background, the flowers a riot of reds, oranges, and purples. Small green leaves peeked out here and there. She had also added a black tulle petticoat to give it a little more poof. Her hair had been curled and left loose, only the sides pinned back to keep it out of her face. 

Thor beamed when he saw them. “My Lady! You look beautiful!”

Jane blushed, but her smile said volumes about how pleased she was.

Darcy giggled and poked her boss in the side, earning herself a swat for her efforts.

Thor hugged both women close, dropping a kiss to his girlfriend’s brow as he addressed Darcy. “And you look beautiful as well little sister. The ladies Pepper and Natasha know their art, and ply their craft well.”

“They definitely do!” Darcy agreed, and gave the two women a pair of exuberant thumbs up. 

Natasha inclined her head at the praise, but her sharp eyes hadn’t missed the absence in their midst. The ex-assassin folded her arms and leveled a dangerous look at the men. “Where is Captain Rogers?”

The other Avengers flinched. Tasha had whipped out the formal name. He was in trouble now. They would do what they could to help him, but if it was him or them facing down the wrath of Natasha Romanoff, then they were going to let the good Captain face it on his own. No one was stepping into the path of the train that was Natasha.

Hoping to minimize the damage, Clint spoke up. “He got a call about five hours ago. I guess he’d been trying to set up some sort of meeting with a guy for, like six months or something. Looked like the guy just all of a sudden called him out of the blue and asked him if he was free. He bolted for the door, said he’d do his damndest to get back here in time...guess that didn’t pan out.”

Natasha’s lips thinned into a narrow line. “Seems like.” She tonelessly agreed.

Shit. Steve was definitely in the dog house.

She retrieved a phone from somewhere, none of them were quite sure where, and hit a speed dial. They all waited, the team praying that Steve would pick up, for his own sake if nothing else. He didn’t. The phone went straight to the voice mail that Tony had set up for him when he’d first gotten a phone. 

_ “Hey, you’ve reached the phone of the star spangled man with a plan! Don’t know where he is, but as soon as spangles figures out how to work this new fangled technology called answering machines, I’m sure he’ll get right back to you. Everyone but the Capsicle knows how answering machines work, so go ahead and talk away! Ciao!” _

The redhead arched an eyebrow at Tony, but didn’t say a word. She ended the call and tried again. When the third attempt yielded the same result, she left a short, terse message. 

“Captain. This is Natasha Romanoff. I suggest you call me back as soon as is convenient for you. Our guests are waiting on you.” She snapped her phone shut and tucked it away wherever she had stashed it before. “You had better hope this meeting is worth it Rogers.” She growled, glaring out the window at the city. “Or you’re going to regret it.”

Tony leaned over to whisper in Clint’s ear. “Remind me to never get in the way of the Black Widow and her night off.”

“You really need reminding?”

* * *

 

 

Steve trudged tiredly up the steps of the tower.

Six hours of arguing his point to a man he had never met, and whose advisors seemed to be completely hell bent on keeping him from agreeing with anything Steve said. It had taken everything he had not to clock one or two of them for their asinine behavior. He’d held back more swear words in those long six hours than he’d felt the urge to say in a long  _ long _ time. And on top of everything else, they’d made him late for the party. Natasha was going to have his hide.

“The communal floor Jarvis.” He mumbled as he stepped into the elevator.

“Very good sir.” The AI agreed. “I feel it my duty to note that you are over an hour and a half late for the evening's festivities. All other guests are present and accounted for. 

Steve let his head fall back against the elevator wall with a thud. “Is Natasha mad?”

“Given the way the others seem wary of approaching Miss Romanoff, I would say indubitably sir. However, I would also hazard a guess that she and the others are worried about you. They were all highly concerned when you left no clue as to where you had gone.”

The elevator stopped moving, and Steve straightened up. “Might as well face the music and get it over with.”

The doors slid open.

The entire team, along with Pepper and two women he’d never met before were waiting expectantly for him. Jarvis must have told them he’d come home. Given that the woman in the yellow dress was cuddled up against  Thor on the couch, he assumed that had to be Dr. Foster. That meant the other young lady in the flamboyant floral one was probably her assistant Miss Lewis. 

Natasha arched an eyebrow at him. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry Tasha. It couldn’t be helped.”

Her eyebrow only crept higher. “Was it worth it?”

Remembering the absolute elation he’d felt when the man had completely ignored the protests of his advisors and agreed to do as the captain asked, Steve let a tired smile curl his lips. “It was.” 

She nodded, though she didn’t seem pleased. The assassin folded her arms, a dangerous glint still in her eye. “Whoever it was, they will regret interrupting our evening. Who will I be calling in the morning?”

Steve sighed. “No one Tasha. I actually owe  _ him _ for what he did tonight.” 

At the back of the group, Bucky’s head snapped up, alarm written all across his face. Favors were very bad things, he  _ knew _ that. Some of the very worst things the Winter Soldier had ever had to do were the result of a  _ favor _ to one person of another. Steve shouldn’t owe a favor to  _ anyone _ !

Steve must have been able to see his worry.

The super soldier slid past the rest of his friends, murmuring a polite ‘excuse me’ to Pepper as he passed, making a beeline for his best friend. Bucky watched him, uncertain of what Steve was up to, but instinct said that it had something to do with him. And that made him uneasy. He almost took a step back from the man, only sheer stubbornness and the fact that the window wall was right behind him kept his feet nailed to the floor. 

Steve unzipped his coat and pulled out a paper envelope to offer him.

For a long minute, the Soldier didn’t take it. What would the stranger want Steve to do for the favor he owed? Would it be bad? If it was, would Steve be able to get out of that? Could he? And what about the envelope? Could that be the favor? But why would anyone waste a favor getting Steve to play messenger boy, it didn’t make any sense. So the envelope had to be the reason that Steve owed someone a favor. The soldier was inclined to hate it on sight for putting Steve into a dangerous position like that.

Bucky muscled his way back up past the Soldier.

This wasn’t Hydra, favors weren’t bad things here. Steve wouldn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. Staring at his best friend, he couldn’t see any sign of worry in those expressive blue eyes. Blue eyes that he had learned to read like a book almost a century ago. All he saw there was weariness, and concern for him. And was that...excitement? He really  _ looked _ at the envelope for the first time. 

What could possibly be in there to get Steve this excited?

Bucky cautiously took it, curiosity finally getting the better of him. He upended the contents into his metal hand, just to be safe. Inside the envelope were several sheets of stationary. Each one was marked with the crest of the United States government. 

Official paperwork then. 

He scanned the first page, and had already flipped to the second before what he had read fully registered. His eyes widened and he flipped back to the first page, gaze flying over the words. He was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open, that Steve was smiling at him, that his own eyes had to be the size of softballs by now. But he couldn’t muscle himself away from one singular train of thought. Upon seeing the signature at the bottom, his eyes snapped up to Steve, and his mouth blurted out what his mind was chanting in a loop.

“This isn’t possible…!” He shook his head. “It… it can’t be…”

Steve cradled his trembling hands in his own, steadying them so that he didn’t drop anything. “It is.” Steve reassured. “I  _ promise _ it is! It took six hours of explaining my case while his advisors argued over the top of me, but it happened. He never said a word through the whole thing. I’m not sure who was more surprised when he signed those papers, me or his advisors! He’d like to meet you, speak to you at some point.” Bucky’s face paled, and Steve sternly added. “But only when you’re ready. Not one minute before. Understood?” 

“Yes.”

Steve patted him fondly on the shoulder. “It’s  _ done _ Buck. We did it.” 

Choking out a sob, Bucky dropped the papers and threw his arms around his best friend’s neck, hugging him as tightly as he dared. Steve hugged back just as fiercely, and Bucky tightened his grip. Steve wasn’t nearly as frail as he used to be after all. He clung to him, tears slipping down his cheeks for the first time in he didn’t remember how long. He was vaguely aware of Natasha gathering up the scattered papers. 

He didn’t care.

“Thank you.” He mumbled into Steve’s neck. “You  _ stupid _ punk, I don’t… I don’t even know what to  _ say… _ ”

“You’ve already said it.” 

Bucky snorted and took a step back, swiping at his teary eyes. “God, you are such a punk.” 

“Better a punk than a jerk like you.” 

The ex-assassin playfully cuffed his friend. “Watch your mouth.” 

Clint set his foot on the coffee table, propping an elbow on his knee. He leaned out to lightly poke his partner in the side, a smile quirking his lips. Natasha ignored him, intent on the papers in her hands. Clint’s grin widened and he poked her again. 

“What is it Tash?”

Tony chimed in. “Yeah, what did the star spangled man with a plan get for his bestie? It must be something really special to warrant a thank you like that! So spill Spidey, and tell us what Capsicle brought!”

Natasha didn’t answer.

His voice trailed off, and his smile faded.

Natasha was staring at the papers, seemingly at a loss for words. It took a lot to make the Black Widow hesitate even a little bit, let alone render her completely speechless like this. Whatever Steve had done, it was something big! 

Bucky wiped at watery eyes, his voice choking his throat. “It…” He swallowed and tried again. “It’s a pardon...It’s a presidential pardon. I… I’ve been  _ pardoned _ .” He felt Steve squeeze his shoulder, and he felt as though he would burst with the emotion coursing through him. “It’s over. I’m  _ free _ .”

“It’s over.” Steve agreed. He blushed under the stunned scrutiny of his teammates. “Now you understand why I said I owed him a favor...Why do you think it took me so long to set up this meeting? If I’m not out of country on a mission, the President is out of country on a diplomatic one.” 

Clint grin, passing Natasha the envelope for the papers so she could put them away. “Just when I thought I’d seen every trick you had up your sleeve… How long have you been toying with this idea?”

Steve’s blush only got stronger. “Since I found out he was alive. I knew that I only had one shot at convincing the President that Bucky deserved a second chance. So I had to bide my time. Bucky remembered. He didn’t hurt anyone else. He got better. I could tell the Commander in Chief that I had absolute faith in my friend. I told him that he could do the same with absolute certainty. He decided to trust us.”

“Well, we didn’t let the last one down. No sense breaking our streak with this one.” Bucky commented.

Steve flashed him a grateful smile.

“Wow, you two geriatric super soldiers definitely know how to turn a phrase.” Tony looped an arm around Pepper’s waist. “You do realize there’s been a president or two in between the one you knew in the forties and this one, right?”

Darcy gave him an affronted look. “Excuse you! Not counting the current president, there were ten or eleven presidents in between! I say ten or eleven because I don’t know which one they’re talking about for certain, but still! Come on Stark!”

The genius snorted. “How could you  _ possibly _ know how many presidents there were between the 40’s and now? Most people can’t even remember the names, let alone the order.”

Darcy was doing her very best unimpressed face. “Must be a novel experience then, you getting to be lumped in with ‘most people’ for once. And I know it because I’m not ‘most people’, I’m a poli-sci major for crying out loud! I’m  _ supposed _ to know the names and order and years of service of the United States Presidents!”

“But…” Tony pointed at Darcy, then whirled and pointed at Jane. “But you’re an astrophysicist! Why do you have a political science major interning with you! She’s not even in the same field!”

Jane shrugged. “Why not? I needed an intern. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and even though she doesn’t know much about my field of expertise she picks things up quickly. Plus, she was the only one to apply. At that time pretty much everyone thought my research was a joke.”

Tony made a helpless gesture at Darcy. “And you just thought you’d take an internship in a completely different field just for laughs?”

The brunet shrugged. “What? I needed six college credits and all the other internships were taken or run by creepy misogynistic assholes.” 

Clint’s shoulders were shaking. “Creepy… Oh god, you...you tasered one of them, didn’t you.”

“Yes I did.” She sounded far too proud of herself.

Tony snorted. “What did he do, call you ‘little princess’?

Darcy targeted him with her severely unimpressed face again. “He did actually. He couldn’t keep his eyes off my girls either.  _ And _ he made a pass at me!”

“So you tasered him for leering and making a pass at you?” Sam asked.

“Oh no, I sprinkled two or three powdered laxatives in his coffee and all over the inside of his sandwich for that! No, I tasered him when he pinned me against a wall and suggested that I might get the internship if I provided certain extra services. So I tasered him right in the family jewels and told him he could stick his internship where the sun didn’t shine.”

Jane looked furious. “Did you report him for his behavior?”

“You bet I did boss lady! The best part was that his secretary was at her desk right outside the door and heard the whole thing. She already had the authorities on the phone! I didn’t want anything to do with that internship after that, even though the lady that replaced him was nice enough, so I hopped back on my computer and found you. The rest, as they say, is history!” She clapped her hands together and rubbed them eagerly. “Now! Since we finally have everyone here, can we  _ please _ get started? I’ve been looking forward to this all week!”

Bucky laughed and lightly grabbed Steve by the scruff. “You heard the lady Steve, go get changed and hurry back up here! We’ve kept our guests waiting long enough!”

Laughing good naturedly, the tall blond trotted back to the elevator. “Alright! Alright! I’m going! Go ahead and get them started Buck, I’ll be up in a minute to help.”

“Just don’t be all night about it!’ Bucky turned back to face the others and found Darcy planted squarely in front of him with an eager grin. 

“So! What do we do first? And do we need partners? Because I don’t think there’s going to be enough ladies to go around.”

“First, we cover the basics. And yes, you do need partners. Seeing as there are more gentlemen than dames, we’re going to have to share partners.” He could see the argument brewing already and raised his voice a little to nip it in the bud. “This isn’t a date, and it’s not one of your modern clubs. Men are ridiculously possessive out on the dance floor these days. Get over it  _ now _ ! Everyone knows who’s dating who, and everyone knows that’s not about to change. No one’s here to steal your best girl, and given the spunk these ladies have, I doubt they’d let anyone get away with it. The whole point of dancing is to have fun. Dancing is different with each partner, and different partners help you strengthen your skills. Besides, clinging to each other when someone asks to cut in is considered rude, I’m warning you now. If you’re going to turn someone down I suggest you sit the rest of the night out. Any questions?”

The others were smiling, and it took him a minute to realize it was because that little speech was the most he’d said to the lot of them at one time since he came here.

“Alright then. Starting with basics. Natalia, you’re with Clint. You already have a fair idea of what you’re doing, and you know his learning style best. Miss Potts, you’re with Tony. Dr. Foster, you’ll dance with Thor for now. And Miss Lewis…” He thought for a moment, eyeing the two remaining men. 

Bruce held up his hands. “Go ahead and pair her with Sam, I’ll ride the bench for now. I’m more of a visual learner anyway. I’ll watch this time around and jump in next go.”

Buck nodded. “Alright. Miss Lewis with Sam then.” To Bruce he added, “Don’t think you’re getting out of it so easy as that Banner. You can dance solo just as easily as you can with a partner. God knows Steve and I have often enough. Whether one of the fellas are ready to trade out or not, you’re dancing next round, so pay attention now.”

He positioned the pairs on their makeshift dance floor, careful to make sure that they had plenty of space between them to start with until they’d gotten the gist of what was going on. Then he held out a hand to Natasha. 

“ Potantsuy so mnoy?”(1)

She laughed and joined him in the center of the floor.

Bucky glanced up at the ceiling, and the smile fell off his face. “Damn.”

“What? What’s wrong Yasha?”

He ignored her, addressing the AI. “Jarvis? Could you ask Steve for a song to play? I remember the music, but I can’t remember the titles.”

“Certainly Sergeant Barnes.” The AI replied warmly. “Captain Rogers asks me to inform you that he will return to the communal floor in five minutes. In the meantime, he suggests ‘Bei Mir Bist Du Shein’ by the Andrew Sisters. It has a slower tempo, and he believes it would be ideal to introduce them to the steps.”

“Do you have that one?”

“Of course sir.” 

The sound of trumpets poured gently from the speakers, and Bucky took a moment to listen to the music. As the women began to sing, Bucky felt warmth spread through his chest at the memories the song kindled. 

He caught Natasha’s hand and pulled her into the basic steps he had taught her months ago on that ill fated night at the club. He explained as they went, then passed Natasha back to Clint and instructed them to try it. He watched the Avengers try to replicate the moves, stepping in here and there to correct them, or offer advice on how to perform the move more easily. 

They had a couple tussles, most notably when Thor and Sam backed up into each other and Sam went sprawling. The two just laughed with the rest, Thor helped Sam up, and they went right back to trying to do as Bucky told them.

When Steve returned, ‘Bei Mir Bist Du Shein’ had finished and been replaced by ‘Rum and Coca Cola’. Seeing that Bucky had the others well in hand, Steve zeroed in on Bruce. The tall blond pulled the scientist out onto a corner of the floor and coached him through the steps one on one. Bruce had a quick eye, and he learned from watching Steve doing the steps beside him. What he lacked in physical skill, he made up for in enjoyment of the dance. As long as Bruce was having fun, Steve and Bucky were satisfied.

“Hey Buck, think they’re ready to kick it up a notch? Steve asked as ‘Rum And Coca Cola’ wound down.

“Why not?”

Steve beamed. “Jarvis, play Glen Miller’s ‘In The Mood’.”

There was a good deal of stumbling over feet, their own and their partner’s. Not that anyone really minded. After all, it was all in good fun. And laughter rang off the walls when Darcy, who had switched with Natasha because Clint was getting the hang of it and Sam needed a little more coaching, somehow managed to crack her forehead off of Clint’s. 

He responded with a resounding “Awe, Darcy, no…!”

‘In The Mood’ gave way to ‘Six Jerks In A Jeep’, and from there to ‘American Patrol’ and ‘It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing’. They still stumbled here and there, some more than others, but everyone beamed anyway. 

“Alright everyone!” Steve yelled as ‘It Don’t Mean A Thing’ ended. “Trade partners. Find someone you haven’t danced with yet!” The two instructors waited patiently while the others scrambled for new partners. 

Jane snared Bruce almost immediately. She didn’t know Clint or Sam as well, and she wasn’t really interested in putting up with Tony’s shenanigans. She’d skyped with Bruce once or twice to cooperate on a project, so for her he was the obvious choice. Pepper accepted Sam’s invitation, while Darcy fairly skipped over to Thor. Leaving Tony with Natasha, as she had already danced with Clint. The billionaire made a show of pouting very loudly and obviously, but they could all tell he didn’t mean it. 

Steve and Bucky shared a grin. 

“Jarvis?” 

“Play ‘Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens’. Let’s really get their blood pumping.”

The two sat back and watched their friends scramble as they tried to adapt to what sounded like a slightly faster tempo.

“You two are evil  _ evil _ men.” Darcy announced when the song had ended.

“Trade off!” Bucky yelled in answer. Pepper claimed Thor this time, while Jane continued to avoid the headache that was Tony and opted for Sam. Natasha snared Bruce, and Darcy bounced over to Tony, just in time for Steve to ask Jarvis to play ‘Gimme Some Skin My Friend’.

“Don’t get handsy Stark.” She warned him as the music began to play.

“Or what, you’ll tase me?”

She smirked. “I’ve tasered the norse god of thunder for less, and this dress has pockets. Do you really want to push your luck?”

Tony huffed. “Point taken.”

Over by Steve and Bucky, Clint twisted his face into a playful pout. “Awe, a wallflower twice in a row?” he whined.

Steve laughed. “Then dance with us. There’s nothing wrong with dancing alone.”

Song after song played, and time flew by. It was almost eleven-thirty at night before they decided to take a break. Jarvis had thoughtfully placed an order at a nearby chinese restaurant half an hour before, so the food arrived as close to the perfect moment as it was possible for anyone to be. 

Darcy flopped down onto the couch with a tired but satisfied huff. She adopted a stern look and pointed a finger at the two super soldiers. “Oh no you don’t! You two do a little jig on the sidelines while you put us through our paces and think you can call it good? I don’t think so! I’ve heard all about your mad dance skills, and I want to see for myself. I think we all deserve an exhibition performance, don’t you guys?” She looked around at the rest of the Avengers, seeking support.

Smirks formed on the faces of her fellow dancers, and they nodded eagerly.

Darcy proudly pointed back at their makeshift dance floor. “You heard us gentlemen! Get your cute butts back out on that dance floor!”

Steve heaved a put upon sigh, but Bucky just shoved him back the way they’d come. 

“You heard the lady punk! Get a move on. The sooner we show off, the sooner we eat.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Seeing as how we spent the whole evening teaching them, it doesn’t exactly seem fair.”

Bucky grabbed one of Steve’s elbows and Natasha grabbed the other. The sergeant cemented his hold by playfully grabbing Steve by the scruff as well. 

“Ah, quit your gripin’ and dance.”

Darcy giggled. “For two cents, I’d make you two dance to ‘Shut Up And Dance With Me’.”

Clint flopped down on the sofa by Darcy and waggled a finger at her. “Nah ah ah, nothing doing. If you want them to show off, you have to let them sit smack in the middle of their comfort zone where they’re strongest. They get to pick the song. So sit back and enjoy the show.”

Out on the floor, the two soldiers shared matching grins.

“Jarvis, play ‘One Girl And Two Boys’.” He paused, then added. “Play ‘Sing, Sing, Sing’ back to back with it.”

The music ramped up and the two swept Natasha away across the dance floor, determined to put on a good show. Natasha was a bit farther along than the rest because of her previous lessons. If they had had to hazard a guess, the boys would’ve said that she had been looking at videos online, her moves were more polished than they would’ve expected after only two lessons. Long lessons, admittedly, but still only two.

That didn’t mean that they wouldn’t take advantage of it though. The two put her natural athleticism to good use, challenging her with new moves on the fly. They traded her back and forth, taking turns bending her around their sides, flipping her over their shoulders, tossing her up into the air, and whirling her under and between legs. She never once hesitated, tensed or faltered, and they pressed on. So long as that mile wide smile stayed on her lips, they knew that she was ok, and it was alright to keep going.

Bucky traded her off to Steve and danced back a couple steps to clap and catch his breath. Deep in his core, he could feel the stirrings of the man he used to be. He would never truly be that man again, he knew that. And that was ok. He wasn’t Bucky, and he wasn’t the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t entirely sure where one ended and the other began. And that was ok too. 

He moved back in, guiding Natasha through another flip and working with Steve to toss her high up into the air. The cheeky little spider rolled in midair a few times before letting them catch her, just because she could. He pressed a proud kiss to her temple as he and Steve set her on her feet, and then they were off again. 

He could hear the others laughing. Could hear them cheering the three dancers on. Could hear them hooting and hollering and clapping along to the beat. Across from him, Steve’s face was lit and open and carefree in a way he had never seen it before. In their arms, Natasha’s face was the same way. For this one second, there was nothing in the world to wear them down. Nothing to bring them low. No hunger or pain. No Red Room, no war, no great depression. There were no health problems, and no death threats. They were joyful, and completely carefree, for these few seconds at least. 

And he felt privileged to have born witness to it.

As the song came to an end, and they left the makeshift dance floor to the applause and admiration of their friends, a thought occurred to him. A thought that zinged through him, and almost left him speechless in its audacity and absurdity. Almost.

Natasha laid a hand on his arm. “Yasha?”

He glanced down at her, stunned by what he had just learned, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “YA schastliv…”(2)

A genuine joy lit her face, and she pulled his head down to plant a tender kiss on his brow. “Vy zasluzhivayete byt' schastlivym.”(3)

He smiled, and his eyes flicked to the rest of the team gathered ‘round the coffee table. His pardon was still sitting there, safe in it’s envelope, and the sight of it and them made his smile grow all the wider as his heart threatened to burst. 

No, he wasn’t Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, or anyone else he used to be. And that was alright. Because he didn’t have to be any of them anymore. And these people… These strange, dysfunctional, wonderfully kind, absurd people didn’t expect him to be anything more than what he was right now in this very second. This, and nothing more. They cared about him, and they accepted him. 

Oh yes Natalia, he was happy.

It had crept up on him, and he hadn’t ever seen it coming. The Avengers had  _ made _ him happy. And why shouldn’t they have? After all…

... _ that is what families are for... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "Dance With Me?"  
> (2) "I'm happy"  
> (3) "You deserve to be happy."

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a Bucky Centric fic, but Tony kind of snuck in and stole some of the line light...oh well.
> 
>  
> 
> Love it? Hate it? Yes, no, maybe so? Leave your thoughts in the comments below!


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